


no matter what (you keep finding something to fight for)

by Rejectedmarvel



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Bang, F/F, F/M, Father and Son, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Heavy Angst, Irondad, IrondadBigBang2020, M/M, No nasty shipping here, The Last of Us - Freeform, The Last of Us AU, irondad whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 165,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejectedmarvel/pseuds/Rejectedmarvel
Summary: Since the apocalypse graced the world, Tony Stark was no stranger to pain it unleashed. It was a second skin at this point, a looming presence weighing him down as he tries to make his way through a world gone mad. Tony likes being alone, not being too close to anyone. He can’t lose anyone else, never again.But in this new world, the universe seems to keep sending people his way. Now, stumbling into the care of a wise-ass kid with Bambi eyes and a messy mop of brown curls, Tony is thrust into a new side of the apocalypse. Now on the race to a possible cure and the bubbling friendship with this kid, Tony may just have to face his many demons to make it out this journey alive.Or~ The Last of Us AU ~
Relationships: Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Bruce Banner/Thor, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers, Carol Danvers & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Brunnhilde | Valkyrie, Maria Hill & Tony Stark, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers & Avengers, Ned Leeds/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Shuri & T'Challa (Marvel), Tony Stark & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Tony Stark & Maria Hill & Peter Parker, Tony Stark & Peter Parker & Avengers, Tony Stark & Peter Parker & Bruce Banner, Tony Stark & Peter Parker & T'Challa & Shuri, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Comments: 199
Kudos: 169
Collections: Irondad Big Bang 2020





	1. Part of the Journey is the End...of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Overall Warnings: Mentions of blood, gore, and violence. Mentions of drugs/alcohol, Mentions of suicide (nothing graphic but mentioned), Major character deaths, Language, Spoilers of the game.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Blood and gore, MAJOR Character Death, mentions of guns (Its the end of the world expect the chaos)
> 
> Author's Note: This story was written for the Irondad 2020 Big Bang! I'm so excited to share a story I've been working on for the last few months. Over 161k words and 24 chapters, I can finally share this beauty with the world. Since this is an AU I did change a few things but the main plot points remain the same. Enjoy ;)
> 
> Huge thanks to my artist, [neydraws-blog](https://neydraws-blog.tumblr.com/) for the amazing artwork!

Pepper was asleep on the couch the moment Tony walked through the door. It was late, almost midnight but that didn’t stop his slight agitation as he spoke on the phone. A deep sigh escaped his lips, keys jiggling as he locked the door. He lowers his voice an octave, eyes lingering on his wife a moment longer. 

Rhodey mutters away on the other side of the call, his own tiredness breaking through his voice. Today was supposed to be Tony's day off, a stress-free day spent enjoying his birthday with his wife. However, the universe seemed to have other plans on what he should actually do today and that did not involve laying around in sweats. In fact, it meant spending his joyous birthday fixing the mess his employees tried passing onto interns. 

So yeah, he wasn’t so happy walking into that shit show. 

Rhodey muttered on about today’s events drawing him out of his daze. “Rhodey I-“ His eyes linger on his wife sleeping on the couch, her body curled up under a blanket. “Rhodey. Rhodes - listen to me. I know the dude is a highly rated contractor. But after the mess today I want another one.” 

Pepper finally stirs, eyes fluttering open. She smiled, her body still refusing to move quite yet. 

“Let’s talk about this in the morning ok? Yeah yeah, love you too, Platypus.” 

Tony hangs up after that, shuffling over to the lamp before turning it on. The dark room lit up, still dim enough so the whole area wasn’t covered. Pepper yawns once the light clicks on, body making room for her husband as the blanket falls to the side. 

“Hey,” She whispers, kissing him as Tony falls back onto the couch, finally relaxing.

A wave of exhaustion comes off him, stress from today settling into his aching muscles. “Hi.”

“Fun day off I guess?”

“Oh the best,” He jokes, blinking through his exhaustion. “Who would have thought spending your day off at work would really be relaxing.”

Pepper laughs ruffling his hair a bit. “You poor man, let me guess someone didn’t give the right plans to the contractor?”

“More like the contractor ignored the interns and demanded to see me. Let me tell you, this dude is a real stick in the mud.”

She laughs once more, yawning soon after. Tony glances at the clock before brushing a piece of his wife’s strawberry blond hair behind her ear. 

“I told you not to wait up for me. It’s late.”

Pepper pauses for a few seconds, eyes widening and body suddenly becoming less sluggish. “Oh shit!” The blanket falls to the floor, her body arcing to see the clock. “Thank God, it’s still today.”

He smiles, laughing and amused at his wife’s small panic. “What’s so important-“

Pepper retrieves two boxes from the end table - both wrapped in red and gold. “Your birthday,” She cuts him off. “That’s what is so important.”

Placing the boxes in his lap, Tony cocks a brow taking a look at the neatly wrapped gifts. Red and gold paper with a neatly cut ribbon and bow. His wife always seemed to have the best wrapping techniques, his presents were always this beautiful since they first met.

“I thought I told you-“

“You did but…” She trailed off eagerly glancing at the boxes. A smile tugged at her lips, eyes lingering with a bit of sleep. “There was no way I wasn’t getting you anything.”

“Pep, you shouldn’t have.”

“My handsome husband deserves to be spoiled even if his ego grows.”

Tony dramatically gasps. “Why I never!”

She only laughs, pushing his body gently. “Open them!”

“Okay, okay!” He laughed opening the first gift.

Scrapes of once beautiful paper are thrown to the side, littering parts of the couch and floor. Pepper shifts in her seat giddy almost on edge with excitement. Tony watches her reaction, tearing the wrapping paper at a slower pace. He laughs as his wife’s huffs practically ripping off the remaining paper.

After a rather annoyed and _‘are you serious’_ glare, a beautiful leather box with golden flower detailing is revealed. He quirks his eyebrow once more, running his hand over the familiar box. His fingers trace the golden flowers, old memories lingering back.

This box wasn’t just anyone's fancy box, it used to be his mother’s. 

One of the many things he kept of hers when she passed. Granted the box in front of him looked newer like someone was able to restore the once faded detailing and scratched wood. A smile tugs at his lips, vivid pictures of his mother keeping the box on her dresser as she fumbled through what necklaces to wear. His mom always loved that box, claiming she had gotten it from her mother before she passed. 

_ Oh, the irony and foreshadowing in that sentence. _

Heart aching by that thought, he finally opens the box slowly. Tony’s breath hitched in his throat, eyes widening by the object laying on the velvet fabric inside. 

_ His mother’s watch.  _

The very thing she couldn’t leave the house without. He was actually surprised she even left it to him in the first place. Growing up he could have sworn she would be buried with it. Tony’s hands ghosted over the watch now in better condition, just how it looked years earlier.

Obviously, there were a few changes, mostly from the band that looked much bigger. The leather band had the same golden detailing as the box, swirling around the watch to showcase the newly cleaned device. Tears pricked his eyes, threatening to fall. 

“You kept complaining about your broken watch and your mother’s was just sitting on the dresser. I figured I would change the band to fit you better.” Pepper says as she watches him put the watch on his wrist. “Do you like it?”

Tony blinks back the tears. “Pep, this is…” He pauses putting the watch up to his ear before glancing back down the device.

“What?”

“Honey, it’s beautiful but I-“ He pauses once more. “I think it’s stuck.”

“ _ What?!”  _ She exclaimed worried, grabbing his arm. “No, no, no. It was fine when I-“ She takes a look at the watch, panic falling off her features. “Oh, you  _ little shit! _ ”

Pepper nudges him again as he laughs loudly. She mutters a few more curses under her breath shooting him another playful glare. 

“Yeah, but you love his little shit,” He smirks proudly earning a pillow to the face. “Hey!”

“And that’s what you get for giving me a damn heart attack.”

“Honey,” Tony is still laughing leaning over to his wife. “I’m sorry, let me kiss it better.”

She huffed rolling her eyes, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. She covers the rest of the distance, pecking his lips before glaring at him playfully. 

“Still a little shit.”

“Noted.”

Pepper’s eyes darting to the last box sitting by his side. Instead of the gold paper on the other box, this present was wrapped in red with gold accents. Biting her lip nervously, she picked up the gift placing it in Tony’s lap. Once the gift was safely in his hands, hers retreated back to her lap, legs crossed under her.

Their gaze lingered, Pepper, gesturing towards the red present. “Now open that one.”

“Hmmm, I wonder what this is?” He teased. “A pair of earrings? A necklace? A pair of sunglasses?”

She didn’t laugh as much, instead, her gaze seemed to be darting from the gift to him. His wife seemed nervous and giddy, clearly, something was up.

“Open it.”

“Eager much.”

“Tony,” She sighed, gesturing to the present once more. “Open it!”

“Let the birthday boy open his presents at his own pace.”

When Pepper rolled her eyes for the hundredth time, Tony busted out in laughter. He tears off the wrapping paper making sure to take his time. He liked getting a rise out of her, his wife’s “annoyed” face was just so cute. 

As the paper joined its golden match around them, Tony wondered what exactly was in this larger box. The watch was clearly enough but Pepper had some other things in mind. Unlike the wooden box, this one was just plain white cardboard. Eyeing his wife suspiciously, he opened the box to golden tissue paper. 

The contents inside didn’t fill the box at all, smaller objects resembling pictures. Tony begins to pull the tissue paper back, Pepper leaning in eagerly. His hands stop once he makes out the photos. Another breath in his throat hitches, eyes going wide. His fingers trace along the edge of the photo. 

_ It’s a picture of an ultrasound — Pepper’s ultrasound. _

Tony turns, tears already threatening to spill. His heart thumps in his chest, a smile breaking its way through. “Are you-“

“I’m ten weeks,” She responds with tears in her own eyes. 

“I’m gonna be-“

“You're gonna be a dad, Tony.”

Excitedly he yells with tears of joy, box falling to his side, arms lifting his wife into the air. She laughs with him, clutching onto him as they spin in a circle with glee. Tony showered her in a few kisses, trying to rain in the happy tears falling down his face. Once Pepper was back on the carpet, he kneels down to her stomach, pressing a kiss there.

“Hi baby, I’m going to be your dad,” He whispered, making eye contact with his wife. His heart seemed to grow three sizes, a wave of joy washing over him. He was actually going to be a dad. “So that stomach bug a week ago wasn’t from bad chicken huh?”

“Surprised,” She laughed pulling him off the ground. “Morning sickness is already upon us.” 

Laughing, Tony wipes his tears, still smiling like an idiot. “I guess our little girl is already giving us trouble.”

“Little girl? We don’t even know the gender yet. That little girl could be a boy.”

“Let’s just say I have a feeling.”

“Oh do you now?” She smirks. “Let me guess you’re already running through a list of names.”

“Morgan,” He nods quite sure of himself. “After your crazy uncle. Quite eccentric but the man did know how to have a good time. Besides works for a boy or a girl.”

Pepper laughs loudly as the two of them settle back onto the couch pouring over the ultrasounds. Tony couldn’t stop smiling even though his face hurt. He was actually going to be a dad, who would have thought? 

“We made that,” He whispers. 

“We made that.”

Suddenly the clock changes to twelve, the old grandfather clock ringing through the house. Though his birthday was now officially over, and he couldn’t stop smiling. With this news, everyday started to seem like his birthday. Beside him, Pepper yawned resting her head on his shoulder. She grabbed her knitted blue blanket, yanking it upward to cover herself. Her eyes started to flutter close, tiredness starting to take over. 

“Don’t you want to sleep in our bed?”

She cracked open an eye, scoffing a bit. “Are you going to use it too or knock out after watching a bit of tv? Because right now you seem high on joy.”

Tony pauses knowing his wife knew him too well. He never really slept straight through the night. Whether that’s because he’s tinkering away or the large amount of coffee he drank, he never really slept that much. But right now, the coffee was leaving his system and the joyous news could only keep him up for so long.

“And that’s why we have a nice TV in our room,” He responds, pocketing the ultrasound before gracefully picking up his wife. 

“You know I can walk right?” She yawned.

“Can’t a husband carry his wife to bed like a true gentleman?”

“Can that gentleman weed the garden tomorrow then?”

Tony’s already walking up the steps lips pursed together as Pepper called him out. “Touché.”

__________

A loud clang outside his house startles Tony awake. He blinks the black dots out of his eyes, vision focusing on the clock beside him reading a few minutes after two. The ultrasound sat on his bedside table next to the home phone. He blinks a few more times, finally shifting onto his back as Pepper slept peacefully. 

The light of the tv dimly lit the room, newscast flashing across his screen. It muttered on, volume to low to understand what the woman reporter was saying. Tony rubbed his eyes wondering what woke him up. Did something fall downstairs? Was it something outside? He didn’t really know but he was too tired to drag himself out of bed quite yet. Pepper only shifted in her sleep muttering to herself. 

Just as he started to think it was his wife speaking in her sleep, another loud bang made him sit up in surprise. He was more alert this time, clearly, something else was causing these noises. 

“What the hell?” He whispered trying his hardest not to wake his wife up.

Another pounding sound comes from downstairs, Pepper now starting to wake up herself. Tony’s eyes fall on the tv, getting distracted by the graphics displayed across the screen. 

A woman stands holding a mic, eyes wide, and fear laced within them. She takes a few deep breaths looking a bit worse for wear from the stress. Under her, the bold letters read  **Cordyceps Infection Spreading: Excavations On There Way.**

Tony numbly grabs the remote to turn the tv up just enough to hear what was going on. The last thing we wanted to do was stress his wife out, she needed sleep more than he did. By the time he is able to understand the woman, she’s halfway through her statement. 

“As numerous infection cases have spread to cities all over, recently infected escapees have contributed to the vast spread of this new disease. Doctors and nurses who have cared for the admitted cordyceps patients report erratic and aggressive behavior. These affected individuals are to be avoided at all costs. As mentioned by officials and medical staff, these individuals are almost mindless - attacks focused on the main goal of biting their victims.”

A pit of worry grows in his stomach, eyes still wide and trying to take in what was happening. He heard about the infections, everyone did at this point. From what he heard, it was under control, nothing to worry about. But clearly, something was going wrong if excavations were on their way.

“-Now confirmed that these bites do in fact cause the infection to spread. Reports of biting incidents are growing by the hour as more infected people are running around cities and neighborhoods. Officials have stated to remain calm and lock your doors until an official evacuation has been sent. It is important to stay away from these individuals because these patients are very dangerous and will try to attack you if provoked.” 

_ Not good, not good.  _

“Warning signs of these infected individuals are shown through an inability to think straight, glazed eyes, high fever, clamminess, paleness, aggressive behavior, growths on the body, fluid-"

Tony muted the tv after that, breathing heavily trying to calm himself. His gaze darts down to Pepper than to the window. He wonders if they’ll get evacuated soon if it was really that bad to spread this far. She mutters something in her sleep, barely registering the loud pounding now slamming against their house. Nearly jumping out of his skin, the tv remote flies out of his hands and onto the floor. 

_ Right. Something was pounding against their house.  _

His first thought was his neighbor, Happy’s dog running after a stray cat. It was a known fact that on some nights the little rascal would sneak out and chase animals to its heart's content. Even if that meant waking up the neighbors, such as Tony in the middle of the night. Still, that pounding wasn’t easing his nerves one bit. 

Reaching down to pick up the remote, he notices that he left his damn phone downstairs. Sighing, he knew watching the tv wouldn’t calm his reeling mind. He had to grab his phone at some point and now that something was pounding against his house, it gave him another reason to check things out. 

Ignoring the newcast once more, Tony makes his way downstairs using the moonlight to guide him to the living room. Vaguely he remembers putting his phone down beside him when he got home ignoring the device until, _well now_. At the bottom of the steps, blaring police cars drive by scaring the shit out of him. He stops dead in his tracks, hiding in darkness as he gazes outside the window. He takes a few deep breaths noticing that the pounding and banging had stopped. Happy’s dog barks, relieving the tension a bit. The noise was probably just the damn dog, to begin with. 

Moving to the living room, he finds his phone rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He cracks his back, glancing at the many notifications appearing across the screen. Just as he is about to read them, a figure darts past the door. Tony freezes, eyes scanning the yard as the figure dashed again but just out of reach patio lights. He watched the yard intently now, slowly backing away from the door as he could have sworn he heard the phone ring. 

A few things seemed to happen at the exact same time. 

The mysterious figure came closer, erratic movement jerking to the side as Happy’s dog barking got louder. It growled for a few seconds before its high pitched whimper left an eerie silence. Tony stops moving once more, panic gripping his lungs as the dreaded thought of one of those things being out there lingered into his mind. 

As his mind tried to piece together some sort of game plan, Pepper stepped into the kitchen, house phone still in her hands. Her hands trembled, body slowly stalking towards a fearful Tony. 

“Tony?” He didn’t respond as she inched closer. “Rhodey just called panicked what is-”

The erratic figure slams into the glass door leading into the kitchen. It’s body covered in a large amount of blood as it repeatedly slams into the door. Blood streaks the glass as Pepper nearly screams in terror, house phone dropping to the ground as the batteries jolt out of the device. The figure's hands bang into the glass, his face finally becoming visible.

_ Happy.  _

Tony stares at his friend’s pale and bloody face as the air leaves his lungs. His eyes dart to Happy’s glazed eyes and growing aggressive behavior. His neighbor, his friend, was matching most of the descriptions of what the newscast said. His friend was infected, he was sick. This infection was finally in their neighborhood

_ Oh shit _ . 

Before Tony could even get a word out to his wife, Happy slams onto the glass with a fury. Both of them stared in stunned silence as he realized just how breakable that glass was. This wasn’t his friend, this was something else with every intention of breaking through that glass. 

Without another second wasted, Tony moved quickly, flying past Pepper to the desk drawer. He rips it open, gun laying there ready to be loaded. This was only for emergencies - _and this sure as hell was one._ He aims it at an infected Happy. 

_ “Tony?!” _

Pepper’s panic and the pounding fill his ears, heart thumping out of his chest. “Listen Happy, I don’t want-

The glass broke as Happy surge, both Tony and Pepper screaming as he fired a shot. The infected only stumbled forward showing no reaction to pain. Panicking, he fired one more round before Happy finally fell into a puddle of his own blood jerking and gurgling. The room falls silent once more as blood poured onto the kitchen tiles staining the living room carpet as it flowed. 

_ Happy, oh God- _

_ He just killed Happy.  _

Still having an internal crisis, Pepper runs up to his shaking frame holding his face with her hands. They don’t move, only staring at each other before Tony presses his forehead to her shoulder. He heaves, hands trembling. His wife wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug with no intention of letting go. 

“O-Oh God,” She whispers. “The rumors were true, the newscast really wasn’t lying.” 

“I-I-” Tony couldn't find the words.

“H-How did it get so bad?”

He glances back up towards the now shattered door, fully aware of how more of those freaks could get in. His eyes darted around, realizing just how many windows there were in the house. Enough places for more of those freaks to breakthrough. His mind lingers to Rhodey, hands tucking the gun back in his pants as he opens his phone to reveal hundreds of messages and missed calls.

**75 missed calls from Rhodey**

And many messages including

**_Have you seen the news? Shit is happening…_ **

**_A few infected have escaped_ **

**_They’re killing people, like horrendous monsters_ **

**_Shit, shit - people are getting infected it’s SPREADING_ **

**_Where are you?? How are you???_ **

**_Tony, please tell me you and Pepper are ok_ **

**_Tony?! ANSWER ME._ **

His eyes finally got to the last message, overwhelmed by what was happening. 

**_Forget this, I’m coming over to pick you and Pep up. Stay there and DON'T do anything stupid._ **

A sigh of relief escapes him, as he prays that Rhodey was ok and would be here any minute. His hands linger to the ultrasound still in the pocket of his sweats before wrapping his arms around Pepper again. He needed to keep them safe, he had to make sure they were both ok. Suddenly the sound of tires screeching comes from out front, headlights shining through the windows. 

_ Rhodey, thank God.  _

Without a second thought, Tony began dragging Pepper still in her sweats and oversized hoodie towards the front door. There was no time to pack, they just had enough time to put on a good pair of running shoes and get the hell out of here. There was no way he was taking a chance on letting any more freaks come near them. 

“Jesus Tony, what are we-“

“Rhodey here, we need to leave  _ now _ .”

“What is happening?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.”

A figure pounds at the door. “Tony! Open up, it’s me, Rhodey!”

He opens the door with Pepper in tow, their gazes meeting a much more panicked Rhodey. His friend’s eyes kept darting around looking out for something and Tony knew all too well what could be around them. 

“Oh my God! Tones where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and texting for the last hour!”

Pushing passed his friend, he pulls his wife towards the running car. He does a double-check, making sure no other freaks were around. 

“Trust me Platypus,” He heaved opening the back door for Pepper. “I’m so glad you're not some spore monster right now but we need to leave. I’m not about to have my pregnant wife eaten by those things.”

Rhodey stops in his tracks glancing between his two friends. “Oh shit!” He stumbles a bit, feet finally moving again. “I-I mean congrats, wow.”

Pepper let’s out a wet laugh. “Isn’t life full of surprises.”

Both men find their way into the driver and passenger seats, tension still lingering in the air. Everything seemed to turn into a shitshow, infection spreading much farther than anyone thought. Yesterday everything was fine, infected seemingly quarantined from the public and the cure already being processed. But from what they had just witnessed with Happy, nothing was under control. 

By the time Rhodey backed the car onto a barren road, Tony felt a tad better. He glanced outside watching the houses fly by all eerily dead and probably lurking with infected. His gaze found Pepper sitting in the middle not bothering to wear a seatbelt. At this point, all three of them were on edge to care about strapping themselves in. He offers a thin smile, turning around to face the creepy night in front of him trying his hardest to keep his fear at bay.

“All this chaos for a spore infection? This is insane.”

“I know, I know,” Rhodey turns down another street speeding slightly. Before breaking as three police cars sped by. Silence lingered for a few more seconds as they headed towards town. “Everything just went to shit.” 

Pepper leaned forward to join the conversation. “How did this happen? The last thing I heard was the infected were being treated. What changed?”

Rhodey’s jaw clenched eyes still trained on the road as they passed a family stranded. They called out, arms trying to wave them down all while showing their bodies covered in blood spatters. All three of them didn’t say a word, eyes trying to pry themselves away from the mess beside them. A body laid by the other car, probably an infected trying to find another victim to bite. They couldn’t stop for them, they had no idea if the family was infected or not. So with a guilty conscience, they moved on leaving the family. 

Tony sighed, face already matching Rhodey’s. Panicked and stressed all trying to find some composure in a mess like this. This was new territory for everyone, a sudden change in the world corrupting all normalcy. 

“From what I was able to see,” Rhodey began breaking through the silence. “Patients escaped, biting everyone in their way. It’s some sort of — parasite or something. At first, it was just the south getting hit, something probably with their crops or water. Massive recall. And then suddenly the west coast, east coast — _everywhere_ is showing signs of this infection.” 

“Are we sick?” Pepper asked, hands touching her stomach. 

“No,” He said. “Right now they’re saying it’s the people in the cities showing signs.”

“Happy worked in the city,” She muttered as they drove past a house on fire and a few crashed cars.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed, making eye contact with Pepper. “He did. We’re fine honey, we’re fine.”

The conversation stopped after that, the tension growing with every second. There was a dreaded feeling that sat in his gut, nerves peaking. He didn’t know if they were fine, even if they didn’t have the infection yet, didn’t mean that the looming threat didn’t place them in any danger. But the last thing he was going to do was stress his wife, it wasn’t good for her or the baby.

_ The baby. _

His unborn child was already being thrown into a life-threatening situation. It’s home left abandoned with a dead infected body of his friend who probably ate a dog. Yeah, the universe always had great timing. At this point, Tony wanted a safe place to stay, somewhere where Pepper and the baby can be out of danger. 

An ambulance flies by drawing him out of his daze, its sirens blared traveling quickly in the direction they just came from. Deep down Tony wondered what they were hurrying towards, fully knowing that those people just might not make it back.

“Oh fuck.”

Tony’s head snapped back to the front, eyes landing on the mess on the road. A line of traffic seems to lead on from miles, red taillights all breaking and slowly inching forward. 

“Looks like everyone and their mother had the same damn idea.”

“Shit maybe we can-“

A few car horns cut him off, an angry man slamming open his car door with a huff. A news helicopter flew overhead, cameras covering the mad chaos. 

“What the hell man?! Don’t fucking cut me-“

A strangled gasp left the man’s throat as blood cover man in a hospital gown limping and scrambling out of the nearby bushes approaches. A deep growl left its throat, an erratic man tacking the other one to the ground. The infected bloody hands tore into the guy with a fury, ripping him apart with a newfound strength. Two more infected ran out all wearing the same blue and bloody gowns. These two slipped passed the man struggling to break free of the monster hovering over him, _eating him_. Instead of focusing on the man, they pounced onto the open driver's door stumbling their way into the car. A woman screamed from the passenger seat, infected eventually able to feast on their prey. 

Blood splattered across the windshield as panic ensued within other cars. More infected started to appear through the bushes, cars swerving off the road trying to avoid the fate of the dead couple. Rhodey started to reserve as the first infected rose from its dead meal and started to rush towards their car. 

“Go! Rhodey,  _ Go!” _

His friend slammed on the gas pedal, frantically trying to turn the wheel to get the car in position. It took some time, just long enough for an infected to slam on the back window as Pepper screamed. He floors it, racing towards town and away from the chaos and death.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Rhodey yells. “Did you see that?!”

“Yes, yes! Turn here, turn here! Maybe we can get out that way!”

_ What the fuck, what the fuck is happening. _

Tony begins to visibly panic at this point, cursing as his heart pounded against his rib cage. Rhodey tries to calm his nerves muttering a few sentences but he couldn’t quite hear them above the blood rushing to his ears. 

“What is…” Pepper’s voice was almost hysterical at this point. Panic breathes coming from everyone in the car. “They’re dead...t-those people.”

Rhodey flies around another corner, headlights falling on a horde of people all trying to flee to some form of safety. None of the strangers seemed to recognize what was in front of them, all too blinded by their own fear. Many screamed, massive crowds jogging back towards the mess at the road.

“Damnit people move!” He yells almost stopping the car. “Move _ , move! _ ”

_ No, no don’t stop, please. _

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” He screams as one older man slams into their hood. “Get us out of here! Go!  _ Go! _ ”

“I can’t fucking drive through them!”

“Then back up then! We can’t stay here!”

Fleeing people are everywhere: in front, the sides, but more importantly behind them. 

“They’re behind me too!”

“Boys!” Pepper screamed pointing up ahead.  _ Look, look!  _ There’s an opening, just go through! Hurry up!”

Rhodey sped up a bit, slowly getting around the small opening they had in the crowd. Pepper sat back, as Tony's anxiety still rose. They finally made it to a clear street, people still fleeing mostly on the sides. Their car fits through, mass chaos still happening all around them. The car speeds up slightly, trying to get past this mess. 

“Ok, Ok,” Tony huffs, knuckles white from clutching the door. “We should head towards-.”

_ “LOOK OUT!” _

Pepper’s screams just registered before a flash of headlights came their way. A massive impact hit the side of their car, bodies thrown to the side with a woosh of air. Glass shattered as more screams lingered in, and then there was nothing. 

________

Tony wakes up with a gasp, hooded eyes trying to make out the blurry images around him. Pepper yells his name behind him, more panic ensuing outside the remains of the car. Fire and sulfur fill his nose, strong enough to make his eyes water. His vision finally centers, the remains of the crash coming at him from a sideways view. Glass covered the ground, legs dashing by the car with a fast pace. Screams echoed, many voices mixing into the chaos unfolding. 

His mind stirred, body finally recognizing the lingering pain. His muscles ached, head pounding as blood trickled from his brow. Almost immediately Tony’s gaze lands on somebody getting eaten. Another infected looms over its victim snarling and grabbing onto a bloody corpse, insides going everywhere. 

The metal of the car creaks, more people fleeing from the bloody mess. He heaves twisting around to where Pepper’s panicked breaths were coming from. His wife’s crying and bloody face came into view, panicked eyes refusing to leave his. Tony’s whole body shook, mind going into overdrive as he wanted nothing more than to get Pepper out of this mess. The baby and his wife could be hurt, he needed to get them out of this place  _ now _ . 

“Get back, baby,” He spoke voice raspy as he raises his leg to the overturned car, foot lining up with the cracked windshield. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

Tony repeatedly kicks the broken glass trying to break his way through. Once he succeeds, the noise from outside began to linger in. Screams, snarls, growls, sobbing, and sirens mixed into the air; chaos breaking the mold of what society used to be. Nothing was going to be the same after this, not after these freaks began chomping into the pour souls. 

Scrambling out the car with panicked breaths, he finally notices the blood covering his arms. He stumbles out, eyes not registering the figure coming right at him. A body knocks into his dazed form, an infected, bloody figure trying to sink its red-stained teeth into him. It snarls at Tony, snapping teeth trying to find the right angle to bite. Its glazed eyes had no soul as he panicked, arms shaking as the freak got closer. 

There was a struggle for the next few seconds, his back pressed against the wrecked car as his feet tried to find some traction. A hand appears in his peripheral vision, brick slamming down into the freak’s head. It rasped, head dented in as blood gushed out. The creature earns another stomp to the head as Tony finally realized Rhodey was standing in front of him. His mouth goes dry, mind trying to mutter a ‘thank you’ before Pepper calls out with a panic still trapped in the car. 

“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” He rasps out gaining his composer. “Come on, gimme your hand.”

She stumbles out of the wreck with the help of Tony, she grips onto him for dear life fear present across her face. He stares at his wife’s face and then her stomach, he swallows a lump in his throat trying not to freak out of the health of his baby just yet. They needed to get out of this hellhole and fast. Just as she steps foot out the car on her own, Pepper gasps in pain falling into Tony. 

“What is it? Is it the baby?!" He panics forgetting his previous thought. 

“No, no. M-My leg hurts.”

“How bad?

She winces trying to put weight onto it again. “Pretty bad, I can’t walk on it.”

Rhodey turns towards them, bloody brink still in his hand. He heaves taking in the situation of people and freaks running. “We’re gonna have to run.”

Tony takes a look around his mind reeling as he grabs the gun from his waistband and shoves it into his friend’s hand. “Keep us safe.”

Rhodey’s eyes linger on the gun cocking it before his gaze snapped back to him. His friend takes one look at Pepper then to the mayhem surrounding them. With a solemn nod, he surges forward just as Tony managed to lift his wife up bridal style. Both men rush with a quick pace, trying their best to navigate to crowds of people running in all directions. No one knew where to run to, only thought was to get out of this horrendous situation. 

What happened next was mostly a blur in Tony’s mind. People and the infected were scattered all over either screaming, growling, or unluckily getting torn to shreds. Death was a common factor in the town, sobs and desperate cries echoing around them. The more they ran, the more vehicles they saw overturned and burned. A building catches on fire, the overturned car roaring with light as a few more explosions occurred behind them. A few more infected sprint after fleeing souls tackling the unlucky ones to the ground before ripping into them mindlessly with monstrous fury. 

They pass a woman clawing her nails against the pavement screaming as three freaks pull her back into the blood bath. She struggles a few more seconds, cries going silence with a gurgle as a freak bit into her neck. 

“Oh my God, Tony-”

“Just close your eyes, Pep,” He heaves panic still gripping his lungs. “Hold on tight I got you.” 

Fixing his grip, Tony runs passed another dead victim bleeding onto the pavement. A few more screams come from up ahead, a car spinning out of control. A freak hovering over the driver tearing into its next meal as the vehicle screeches slamming right into a gas station. At the moment of impact, a heatwave booms from the station. Massive fires erupting from where the car collided flames covering the poor souls near the explosion. 

A light blinds them, large lamp post breaking at its center taking its electrical chords with it. The fire grows higher, post now blocking their initial route out of this shitshow. A few people turned the other way, running back the way they came as the three of them followed a few others booking down another street. 

Pepper is nearly hysterical, grip tightening around Tony’s arms. “Tony those people... _are on fire._ ”

“Don’t look, don’t look.”

The three of them run a bit farther, other vehicles smashing into each other in the panic. A firetruck lays overturned as the group tries their best to squeeze through the only open space. The infected jump from the shadows, nabbing a few more people as the screaming seemed to never stop. Pepper mutters something but Tony can’t seem to hear her over the chaos around them. 

“We’re gonna get out this, I promise.”

Another explosion booms in the distance, blocking another exit they were gunning for. The crowd panics shifting backward as the infected surges forward for their next meal. Stumbling backward himself, Tony watches how even on fire the infected still try and stumble towards anyone with a beating heart. 

“Through the alley!” Rhodey screams. 

A few infected turn towards them sprinting with erratic movements. Rhodey fires a shot taking down a freak before booking it through the alleyway. The group stumbles through the alley, running towards what was left of their favorite bar, Wanda’s. Wreaked and empty, they picked up the pace trying to escape the looming threat of death. 

Tony only makes it a few feet ahead just as Rhodey slams the alley gate before an infected freak slam into him and Pepper. It growled, nearly taking a bite out of his wife before his friend shoved it off shooting it dead. Both men breathe heavily sparing no time to catch their breaths before running again. Behind them, the infected bodies start climbing over the fence, growls of hunger following right behind them. 

“Into the bar!”

Making a mad dash for the bar, Tony ignored his aching lungs and muscles. He had two lives in his hands and he wasn’t about to throw in the towel now. Pepper clung on for dear life as they sprinted towards the door. Rhodey follows behind them just as they make it through the wooden door. Behind his friend, the infected gain on them a few faster freaks almost closing the gap between them. 

Wasting no time, his friend slams the door shut just as a mess of arms tried to break through. Bodies pounded against the door, all infected freaks wanting to get inside. Tony takes a step back, panicked gaze taking in the mess Wanda’s was left in. Empty and barren, tables turned over as a trail of blood led out of the bar. Nowhere was safe at this point, hell no one was even guaranteed a chance to make it out of here alive. 

Rhodey locks eyes with him, body pressed against the door. “Get to the highway!”

Tony nearly scoffed at that comment. “ _What?!_ You're joking?”

The freaks slam on the door again. “ _Go!_ You got Pepper and your unborn child. I can outrun them, go!

“Rhodes-”

“ _ Anthony _ , go!”

“Rhodey, we’re not-”

“Pepper, this isn’t up for debate.”

Tony waits for a beat staring at Pepper, guilt building already. “We’ll meet you there.”

The two men stared at each other before Tony slammed the front door open and kept running. Pepper begs him to go back, to not leave Rhodey behind but he keeps running, eyes focused on getting to the damn highway. He races over a beaten path, a known shortcut through a parking lot as a few infected chased after him. He heaved trying not to let the added weight of his wife slow him down. 

Carrying Pepper at a full sprint was wearing on him, his arms and legs aching. His lungs burned, body trying its hardest to keep up the speed. He couldn’t slow down, he had too much on the line to stop now. But his body couldn’t quite outrun the infected, freakish speed helping them gain on his tired body. Tony wasn’t sure how long they could last, the freaks were practically behind him at this point, breathing on the back of his neck. 

A bright light suddenly broke through the darkness, several gunshots rang through the air. Bullets mauled down the infected bodies behind him, each freak falling limp. The shots stopped, Tony, coming to a halt with a shaky sigh. He heaved, body stiff as his eyes finally landed what had to be a soldier. 

_ Finally, someone who could get them out of this mess.  _

Though the gun was still trained still in their direction, Tony nearly cried in relief walking towards the soldier to commands them to stop. He freezes, body growing tense as the soldier's radio roars with life. 

“Please,” He managed to choke out breathing heavily. “It’s my wife. I think her leg is broken, she’s pregnant-”

“Stop right there!” The man yelled, the gun still pointed at them, and Tony froze.

“We- We’re not sick. We need help—”

“ _I’ve got two civilians in the outer perimeter._ _Please advise_.” The soldier consulted his radio.

“Tony,” Pepper whispered. “What about Rhodey? We can’t just.”

“We’re gonna get you to safety and go back for him. Okay?”

“Sir,” the soldier spoke again, softly. He’d lowered the gun slightly. “The woman is pregnant.”

Worry grew in Tony’s stomach, panic tightening its knot around his lungs. 

“But…” Tony wished he could see the man’s face. “Yes, sir.”

He started forward again, he needed to get his wife somewhere safe.

“Listen, man. We've just been through straight hell, I'm sure you’ve seen it too. I just need my wife safe, okay? I-”

The soldier raises his gun as Tony curses, acting on instinct throwing himself backward losing his grip on Pepper just as the bullets started flying at them. He rolls down a small hill, panicking about his lack of vision on his wife. He needed to get up, to convince the man they weren’t infected. 

_ They weren’t sick, they weren’t. _

Tony picks himself up as footsteps run over to him before the butt of his gun smacks his temple. He hits the dirt, dazed as he rolls over to come face to face with his attacker. The solder looms over him, gun pointing down at him. 

He raised his hand. “Please don't--!”

Another shot cut through the air, as the soldier’s body caved in on itself. Tony only stared confused only to have Rhodey running up to him with a wild expression. Just as he’s about to make some snarky comment, his friend’s face turns into one of pure horror. 

“Oh God, oh God-”

Tony’s brows furrow as the sudden painful sobs comes from his side. His eyes go wide, mind already recognizing the person crying out in pain. 

_ Pepper. _

Tony bolted upwards, crawling on all fours towards his crying, no  _ choking _ wife. 

_ “Pepper!” _

In a blink, he’s at his wife’s side, eyes taking in the horror in front of him. Pepper laid there against the dirt, gagging on her own blood as a wound in her stomach pours out the same red substance. Tears pooling in her glassy spaced out eyes, breathing uneven as her gray sweatshirt grows a dark crimson. 

“Move your hands baby. I know, I know.” Pepper continues to cry, pained gasps as she gripped onto Tony’s hands stopping the blood from spilling out. “Listen to me Pep, I know this hurts-”

He tries to lift her shoulder up, trying to get a better look at the fucking hole in his wife, and probably his baby. But much to his dismay, the moment had her screaming in agonizing pain as more blood rushed out of her. Her gunshot wound pulsed, more blood pooling under her than staying inside her. Everything started going downhill, Tony’s scattered brain trying to save his dying wife. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know this hurts, baby.” 

Pepper’s cries were quieting into pained squeals. Desperate now, he tries to lift her into his arms to take her to some place to get help. He could still save her, he could still -- another pained yelp came from her weak form. Her breathing grew shaky, her body struggling to stay awake in her husband's arms. 

“Alright baby stay with me,” Tony begs still trying to pick her up. Pepper only screams as Rhodey inches closer. He stares at him for a brief second, her cries stopping suddenly.

Everything was quiet except for Tony’s panicked cries and Rhodey’s sniffles. Pepper laid there unmoving all forms of life draining from her face. Her body goes limp, fresh tears still falling down her face and into the pooling blood. 

“Pep-” Tony shakes her a bit blood now soaking his own clothes. “ _ Pepper _ , hey-” He does it again only to get no response.

Sobs overtake his body, blood-soaked hands trying their hardest to shake his wife back to life. 

“No, No-” He sobs. “ _ Baby, please _ . Don’t do this to me, baby, please. _ Come on _ .” 

“O-Oh God-” Rhodey falls to his knees sobbing with him. “This can’t be-”

“Don’t leave me. P-Please, _ please. _ ”

Nothing he cried or begged work, Pepper still remained lifeless in his arms. Her strawberry blonde locks soaked in her own blood, eyes still open staring off. Tony screamed not caring about the lurking dangers, his hold body shook pleading with the universe to give her back. His wife, his child gone in an instant and never returning back to the world of the living. 

Rhodey places a hand on Tony’s shoulder only to be shrugged off. He cradled Pepper in his arms, sobs refusing to stop. His world, his joy was long gone the moment that bullet hit his wife. Nothing would ever be the same, nothing would ever be ok again. Especially after this night, it never was for a long, long time.


	2. World Gone Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abrupt knocking wakes Tony from a deep slumber. He jolts upward, blinking the sleep out of his tired eyes. His left-hand trembles, shaky breaths following as he groans into his hands. Pepper’s smiling flashes through his memories once more fuzzy and not so sharp as it used to be. Just another one of his latest dreams breaking through the land of sleep. His brain began its mental backflips, trying to shove those bittersweet memories far away. But on days like today, his head seemed to love shoving the _‘remember your dead wife and the unborn child you never met? They’re dead because of you.’_ scenario over and over again.
> 
> Yeah, Tony hated his brain. 
> 
> He hated everything about it, the memories it pressed to relive, and constant what-ifs plaguing his thoughts. Granted, Tony Stark didn’t find many things he liked nowadays since the world went to shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of blood, guns, drugs, and alcohol. Death and some gore elements throughout. A _very_ brief mention of a lynching (no graphic details but I still want to warn people)

“The number of deaths has passed 200. The Governor has called for a state of emergency—”

“There were hundreds and hundreds of bodies lining the streets—”

“Panic spread worldwide after a leaked report from The World Health Organization showed that the latest vaccination tests have failed.”

“...with the bureaucrats out of power, we can finally take the necessary steps to—”

“Los Angeles is now the latest city to be placed under martial law—”

“All residents are required to report to their designated quarantine—”

“Riots have continued for a third consecutive day and winter rations are at an all-time low.”

“A group calling themselves the Avengers have claimed responsibility for both attacks—”

“Their public charter calls for the return of all branches of government.”

“Demonstrations broke out following the execution of six more alleged Avengers—”

**“You can still rise with us. Remember when you’re lost in the darkness - _l_** _**ook for the light.** _

**_“Believe in the Avengers._ ** **”**

_SUMMER_

_20 YEARS LATER_

_…_

Abrupt knocking wakes Tony from a deep slumber. He jolts upward, blinking the sleep out of his tired eyes. His left-hand trembles, shaky breaths following as he groans into his hands. Pepper’s smiling flashes through his memories once more fuzzy and not so sharp as it used to be. Just another one of his latest dreams breaking through the land of sleep. His brain began its mental backflips, trying to shove those bittersweet memories far away. But on days like today, his head seemed to love shoving the ‘ _remember your dead wife and the unborn child you never met? They’re dead because of you.’_ scenario over and over again.

Yeah, Tony hated his brain. 

He hated everything about it, the memories it pressed to relive, and constant what-ifs plaguing his thoughts. Granted, Tony Stark didn’t find many things he liked nowadays since the world went to shit. 

The knocking continues sharply and much louder than before. He groans bouncing on his shitty mattress that hated his aging body. Twenty years ago, he had the best damn bed in the whole world. Memory foam perfectly cushioning his every joint and limb but now he had something that just kept him from sleeping on the old hardwood. A necklace falls from the collar of his flannel, sliver band glimmering in the sunlight peeking through the ripped curtains. A tiny oval-shaped diamond sits on top, linked with a much more plain matte silver band. 

Wedding rings, his and Pepper’s to be exact.

Both bands worn after many years of wear and tear, still covered in dried blood. Another constant reminder of his failure of the one thing he vowed to protect. After that night, that _shitshow_ , the slight of his silver band made Tony sick and unable to function. That band he wore didn’t have a living match, only a lingering memory. So now his own band stayed with Pepper’s together and close to his heart. They were better that way, better out of sight to pitying eyes. 

A dull ache began to form in his temples as the rings were put back in place under his shirt. His muscles grew sore, wishing for better access to Tylenol. Besides Tony's hunched over form laid an old photo, slightly tattered and faded. But even twenty years later, it was quite clear that this photo is a depiction of an ultrasound. 

His calloused fingers brushed over the photo, tears nearly pricking his eyes. “You sure know how to break your old man’s heart, Morgan huh?”

Tony laughs bitterly, mostly cursing at his own stupidity and attachment to a photo. A baby that was only ten weeks old and barely even a life form. Yet here he was still holding onto a damn photo wondering what would have happened if Pepper was still alive today. Their baby could have been twenty at this point, living in a hellhole that was once not so bad in terms of human living. 

With his brain working overtime, he nearly decided to lay back down and call it a day. The world didn’t need to see him today, he could just hide out here for a little more. However, the damn knocking persisted much longer than he would have liked. Much to his dismay, the photo was shoved into his jean pocket for safekeeping before standing on his feet, dirty boots walking across the crappy floors. 

“I’m coming,” He huffed. “Jesus, I’m coming.” 

When his hand finally opened the stained wooden door revealing the brooding presence of his friend Maria Hill, he sighed to himself. She stood to the side hip cocked and lips twisting to her _‘I am not fucking happy with you right now’_ expression. Tony stared for a few more moments, wondering exactly what he did this time. He couldn’t quite recall anything too damning but knowing his track record he probably ruined something. 

Maria returned the stare only adding more heat to her glare. A large bruise sat on the left side of her face, mostly red but fading to other fun colors. She shoves past him, entering his tiny ass space he called his apartment before leaving him to close the door. Almost immediately she spots a bottle of whiskey, pouring herself a glass. 

“Sleep well, Sleeping Beauty?” She asked pleasantly or well in an ‘ _I’m angry but how’s your fucking day’_ type of way. Maria takes a long sip, sighing a bit. “Want one?”

“No. I don’t,” Tony blinks away the growing hangover from the night before. “I don’t...want one.”

He’s had plenty the night before... _and well the night before that._ His stomach practically ached at the thought, mind already picturing his drunken self puking his guts out. He didn’t need a drink quite yet but the night could be a different story.

“Suit yourself, then. But if I were you, you might want to have a glass once I tell you-”

“Where were you, Maria? 

She stops drinking, eyes narrowing. She finds a seat on the not so stable table still giving him a look. Her lips pursed together as she took another long sip. 

“West End District. You know for the pills _we_ had to deliver.” She pauses once more taking another good look at him. “And well last night you were pretty trashed so-”

Tony winces before handing her a wet cloth to put against her bruise. Ice was pretty much a thing of the past so wet dirty rag had to do. The end of the world always showcasing its natural beauties. 

“A man is allowed to enjoy a drink or two.”

Maria glances over to the two empty bottles of whiskey scoffing. “Sure, if you mean bottles.” 

He sighs cracking his back as sunlight trickled through his windows. He rubs his temples, hangover slightly killing his head. Tony knew Pepper wouldn’t like his new drinking habits, hell he didn’t either. But as of right now she was gone and only some bittersweet memory to punish his very existence each day. He probably wouldn’t have made it twenty years if he didn’t drink. 

_Pathetic._

“Alright Hill then let me guess, the deal went wrong.” He began trying to get a rise out of her. Deep down he knew he should have gone, he should have been there for his friend. “The client fucked you up and made off with our pills, no ration cards in sight.”

Maria only scoffed throwing the rag at his face. “The deal went off without a hitch, alright? What do you take me for, a wilting flower? A princess in distress? Hell no, Stark, this woman can handle million business trades all by herself.”

She reaches in her pockets taking out a large stack of ration cards waving them around before smugly throwing them on the table. 

“Enough ration cards to last us a couple of months, easy. So quit frowning, I just saved your grumpy ass from starving.”

Tony sighed once more, eyeing the bruise still forming on her face guilt building. Even though Maria knew how to handle herself when dealing with criminals and thugs it still didn’t mean he should have left her hanging. 

“Then you wanna explain this,” He began pointing at the same spot on her face. “Because clearly something happened.”

Her expression sours, hand rubbing against her jaw. She fixes the collar of her shirt as she finished the last bit of her drink. 

“On my way back here, I got jumped by two assholes. Yeah, they got a few good hits but I managed.”

He laughs bitterly, he could count the many situations where things like these didn’t turn out fine. Someone always ended up hurt in a world like this. He grabs another rag that wasn’t actually dirty making his way over to his friend. 

“Let me see, brave soldier.” Maria scoffs as Tony continues to worry about his friend. He cleans her up a bit, eyes lingering to the open bottle of Whiskey _. “_ These asshats still with us?”

“Now that’s funny.”

Tony sighs a bit worry bubbling in his chest. “Did you at least find out who they were? The last thing we need is a couple of jackasses trying to-“

Maria’s lips form a thin line, eyes sharp and menacing. She pushes his arm away, rubbing her shoulder a bit. “Look, they were a couple of nobodies - they don’t matter. What matters is that they were a couple of Hammer’s goons.”

“Hammer's goons?” Tony starts laughing himself. “Christ, Hill his people are known to go off the books. I mean how maybe times have they tried to take our shipments. They knew you had something and tried to-“

“Stark,” She sighs. “These asshats don’t matter, what truly matters is that Justin fucking Hammer sent them. They didn’t act on their own accord this time.”

He blinks, mouth going dry. “Our Hammer?”

“Do we know anyone else who still tries to wear twenty-year-old designer glasses?”

“Please don’t remind me,” He mutters. “I don’t want to think of that damn mall supply run ever again.”

“Happy I pulled you out of that shitshow?”

Tony’s brain suddenly shifts into high gear, images of his friend, Happy’s infected body jerking erratically through the glass door of his old home. His neighbor was the first infected of many he saw that night, poor soul, not even making it through the first day before Tony unloaded his gun into his body. 

Pepper’s voice fills his ears, her soft voice and laughter making his heart ache. The bittersweet memory changing into her painful screams and cries. The image of blood lingers on his hands, breath hitching as he snaps out of his daze. Maria cocks a brow, her own gaze lingering on her friend. Tony clears his throat, expression growing dark as he tosses the cloth to the side. 

“That son of a bitch,” He mutters. “He knows we’re after him. He thinks he can get us first.”

“Oh no,” She cautioned getting up from her spot. “He’s not nearly smart enough. Maria leans forward eyes filling with a glee he didn’t expect. “I know where the bastard is hiding.”

“Like hell you do.”

She sauntered towards the door, the same smirk still plastered across her face. “Trust me Stark, I have my ways of _persuasion._ Even if that means shooting a few dicks off.”

“Jesus, Hill.”

Her fingers drum along the wood, looking pretty damn proud of herself. She pours herself another drink, smirking as she finishes it in one go. 

“I say we go pay our old pal a visit. He’s in an old warehouse in Area Five. Asshole is probably feeling a bit skittish that his men didn’t come back. Granted I don’t know for how long, men like him don't linger for long with threats looming over them.”

“Well, I hate to leave our friend waiting.”

“You know my day keeps getting better.”

“What are friends for?”

________

The moment Tony and Maria left his apartment complex, the fresh smell of garbage filled his nose. Just another reason why he hated living here, left to smell rotting foods for the rest of his life. The world was much more different now, environments and cities all vastly divergent. He glances upward, foot kicking a rusty can as guards littered the rooftops. Black uniforms and tactical gear covering their whole bodies only leaving their faces open. 

The people of the city were on edge along with the soldiers, conflicting sides trying to survive in his new world. Non-military trying to get by on ration cards watching from afar as these asshat soldiers took everything for themselves. 

It was a damn prison. 

His eyes lingered on the soldiers for a few more seconds sighing by the large presence of their kind. Curfew was almost upon them and the military hated people trying to sneak out after five. They wanted control and the damn curfew was another one of these lame rules. Truth be told, Tony felt like he was back in boarding school his father sent him too. Nuns and uptight teachers trying to rain in the ‘sins’ he could cause. 

Luckily for them, checkpoint five was right near his apartment. All they needed to do was get to Hammer before curfew or they’ll be in a world of hurt. They continued forward, passing by a few neighbors as more rooftop soldiers came into view. 

“I just got the damn papers this morning, I’ve been selected for outside work duty.”

“Such bullshit, soldiers are supposed-“

Tony actually chuckles to himself, muttering under his breath about how much he hated his place. The military hated outside work and rather make people not within their ranks do their dirty work. Maria breaks off, walking up ahead determined to get to the checkpoint on time. Together they reach the end of the alleyway passing another pile of rotting trash as an armored truck drives by. More bystanders go tense, slipping back into the shadows all on edge. 

_“Attention. All citizens are required to carry an ID at all times. Compliance with all city personnel is mandatory.”_

Tony rolls his eyes, practically reciting every damn line after hearing it for days on end. He hated that voice, lifeless and robotic lady trying to inform the citizens with stupid laws. His mind wonders how much the actual lady got paid to record these messages. Probably some citizen or wannabe soldier getting a few ration cards and the honor for serving their country. 

_What was left of it at least._

“And would you look at that,” Maria mutters gesturing towards the ration distribution center. Soldiers stood against the locked gates, guns loosely to their sides. The ration line hasn’t even opened yet.”

“Must be running low again.”

There was no point of ration cards if there’s none to give out. From what he could tell, the following months were just going to get harder. The number of people needing rations were growing and the quarantine zone could never truly support it. 

“How much longer?” A lady sighs.

“Lady,” A solder matches her tone. “When the rations arrive-“

Tony sighs knowing the lady will be there till curfew but kept walking job in mind. 

He keeps his voice low. “I bet those uniforms who serve rations get half.”

“No,” She fake gasped. “Who would have-“

Two soldiers in hazmats suits stop their conversation, they drag out four people placing them behind a military blockade. They put them all in front for everyone to see, a few soldiers standing in front of the blockade guns in their arms. The four people fell forward, soldiers glaring at them like they were pieces of dirt. 

“Alright scan them.”

The four in question are pushed down to their knees gun drawn and ready to fire. Tony watches the soldiers move behind each kneeling civilian, one aiming his gun as the other one pressing the cordyceps reader to the backs of their heads and waiting for the telltale beep of confirmation as to whether the person is clean _or infected._

The first two came out clean but the third, a smaller woman already looking a bit pale and sluggish earns quite a different reaction. The soldiers tense, taking a step back as Tony already knew the outcome. These types of stragglers never made it out. 

“We got a live one.”

They shoved her to the ground as she struggles and pleads with them. “I’m not infected— _I’m not, please!”_

It’s pointless, their heavy boots slamming into her back as another uniform runs up and injects with a killing agent into the back of her neck. From what he heard it was the same shit they used to use to put down criminals on death row expect more _effective, more enhanced_. But in her case, she luckily wasn’t abandoned in prisons when all hell broke loose. By now, the woman stopped pleading and started convulsing. Her sounds of gurgling and choking reminiscent of the monster she could have become. 

She stills, foam falling from her mouth as her eyes go blank. The soldier doesn't bat an eye moving over to the last man about to shit himself. For the military this wasn’t anything new, they practically killed someone every day. 

“Eyes forward.”

The last guy was a shaking mess clearly giving away that he was probably infected too. The man reaches back and smacks the reader from the soldier's hand. From there he makes a half-assed attempt at running away. Even though he made it out of the blockade, the soldiers surrounding them mowed him down with their bullets. 

“Oh shit—!”

“Quite! Consider yourself lucky. That’s what happens when you hide in a condemned building. Send the damn clean up crew.”

Maria and Tony keep their pace, walking away just as the blood started to pool from the man. Though uneasy by the lastest display, they keep moving, having other things to attend to. This shit wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, he’s seen worse things. 

_Many horrible things._

“Seems like more people are getting infected.”

“That just means more people are sneaking out,” He sighs. “People are getting desperate, trying to get ahead of everyone. Shit, it won’t be long before they find out our-“

“We’ll deal with it when it happens,” Maria interrupts voice low. “We just keep our heads low like before. We don’t need any guards tailing us. Besides everyone’s on edge because of that fucking lynching. Avenger type shit, soldiers acting like their next.” 

“I’m pretty sure the raid a week ago already put people over the edge.”

“Avengers get some soldiers and then they get some of there’s — never-ending cycle. But enough of this revolutionary shit, we have a friend to visit.” The checkpoint looms up ahead. “Just play it cool.”

“Frosty.”

Maria rolls her eyes wiping the _‘I hate people’_ look off her face and becoming pleasant. Guards stand in metal cages, eyes all trained on people walking in and out of the checkpoint. They hand their IDs over to the guard on duty just as an armor truck rolls by. 

“What’s your business here?”

“Had the day off,” She answers surprisingly pleasant. “Visiting a friend.”

“Alright move though,” The soldier moves to the side as they quietly thank him.

They move three steps forward, a sudden change in pressure knocking them back with a large wave of heat. Smoke fills the air, footsteps pounding along the pavement as the gate slams shut. Images of Pepper break through, the gas station exploding as she screamed. Tony heaves snapping out of his daze as Maria ushers him away. His gaze lands on the burning armored trucked, bombed to hell, and blocking their way to Hammer. 

“What the fuck-“ Tony says just as the gunshots started going off. 

“FUCKING HELL—!”

“Go! Get out of here!”

“Close the damn gates—!”

_“Avengers!”_

_“Fucking shoot ‘em!”_

Maria yanks Tony’s arm. “Stark let’s move it! Come on!”

_“Attention. Checkpoint Five is closed until further notice. All civilians must clear the surrounding area immediately.”_

Soon they were running back in the direction they came, cutting past a blockade and into a familiar condemned building. Soldiers scattered behind them distracted, more troops already calling for backup. Once inside, they both came to a halt breathing heavy and lingering under the shadows. 

“Fuck,” She seethed familiar personality coming back. “Fucking hell, so much for the easy route.”

Tony rubs his temples still nursing that damn hangover. Sirens and explosions continued on, certainly not helping his case either. 

"They’re going to close all the checkpoints after this stunt. We’re gonna have to go around.”

They locked eyes, that meant going _outside._ Sure they’d been outside this quarantine zone many - _dozens of times_. In fact, getting in and out of the zone was how they survived here for so long. 

“Outside the wall?”

“You wanna just let Hammer go?”

“Cute.”

Each time outside was a gamble, Tony wasn’t that stupid. There was a reason while they lived in a quarantine zone. Although they weren’t infected around the zones because of the soldiers killing anything that got too close. And by anything, that meant any non-infected people seeking help or trying to get back in. The zones were shit but they did beat living outside alone with those things. 

The zone as a whole was a tough process to get through. Not everyone was let in, the process overall was way more difficult and drawn out than it had the right to be. Not to mention the majority of zones had already reached their population limit. It was all just a fucking mess. Infected freaks may not be lingering around the main areas of the wall but those creepy bastards can always slip by. They didn’t just destroy society and humanity without being pretty fucking resilient. 

One of Hill’s intel freaks suddenly appeared from his little rat hole, giddy and out of breath. He stood tall smiling for some odd reason fixing his frying hat. God, these people surely gave Tony the creeps. 

“Hey Hill, you see that shit?”

“I was there,” She muttered. “How’s the east tunnel looking?”

“Oh uh— it’s just clear. Just used it, no patrols. Where are you off to?”

The creepy dude walks with them, basically shoves himself in front of Tony to walk side by side with Maria. Hill glared at the man, eyes narrowing as she showed no signs of wanting this rat to follow them but she shrugged, making sure to keep her distance. He follows his friend, taking a step back after taking in the filth of the man. He really needs to talk to Maria about her choice in associates. 

“Gonna pay our dear friend Justin Hammer a visit.”

“You too?”

They both come to a stop after that comment, gazes meet already trying to get ahead of the situation.

Tony’s voice goes sharp. “Yeah, who else is looking for him?”

Filthy dude shifts his footing. “Uh well, Natasha and er...Steve.”

Maria blinked. “I’m sorry Steve Rogers? Natasha Romanoff? What the fuck do the Avengers want with Hammer?”

“Like they told me, all I know is that they’re looking for him.”

“And what did you tell them?”

“The truth. I have no clue where he’s hiding.”

Maria pats his shoulder cringing before wiping her hand on her pants. “Good man. Stay out of trouble alright? Military gonna be out in force soon.”

“Aye aye captain,” He salutes before breaking off from them.

Tony rolls his eyes, following Maria wondering what exactly they wanted with Hammer. It’s not like every day the two high ups of the Avengers come looking for someone. They turn the corner of the dimly lit building, cracks, and forms of decay finally showing.

“Natasha wants Hammer? What do you make of that?”

“Certainly isn’t ideal,” She says. “Especially if she brought Steve along, I don’t like it. We need to find him first.” 

They broke off into a large naturally lit room with trash and beer bottles scattered everywhere. In the corner, a tunnel guard sat on a disgusting couch with questionable stains. Beside the couch, was a broken flatscreen cracked down the middle resting on a rotted and bug eaten tv stand. 

“Hey, Froggy.”

“Hey guys, how’s it going?”

“Shit’s stirring up out there,” Tony replied. “How are we looking over here?”

“Been quiet, no signs of infected or military.”

“Just what I like to hear,” Maria grinned. “Tony would you be a dear and help me move this.”

Together they push the heavy stand to the side to reveal a large hole in the brick wall. A simple decaying structure with plenty of hidden spaces. A practical gold mine for people wanting to get in and out of the zone. 

“Y’all take it easy out there,” Was the last words of Froggy before they slipped through the hole. 

Maria jumped down first followed by Tony who certainly did not love the not so short fall. His feet landed on the dirty ground, dust kicking up as a horrendous smell filled his nostrils. 

“Agh, Jesus,” He muttered. “This place reeks. They need to watch what they throw down here.” 

She hums in agreement kicking the nearly dead generator to fill the gross hallway with some dim light. She moves to another one knocking her muddy boot against the metal. 

“Let’s grab our gear, I don’t want to be here for much longer.”

________

Once they collected their backpacks off an old workbench, they did a quick once over on the contents inside. Inside was the normal survival components needed for the trip outside. Guns, ammo, gas masks, and first aid kits. Except in Tony’s case, the rather old photo still chilling in his pocket was moved to a free pocket within his bag for safe keeping. 

After a quick stare from Maria, they headed off on a short jaunt through the dark, damp, hand-dug tunnel. Just one of Tony’s many least favorite parts of traveling through this area. Creepy people up above and smelly tunnel down below. Counting each step as they went, he cheered when they finally reached the hole to outside covered by a fallen door. 

Pushing that old thing aside, they jump outward finally taking his first breath of outside air. Every time they managed to get out here was so Goddamn electrifying even if he breathed this same air a month or two ago. In fact, he’s surprised he hasn’t taken up another outside smuggling job in so long. The zone was too much to be hanging about behind those walls. He didn't know how those law-abiding bastards who hadn’t seen the outside once they stepped inside survived. 

Those poor souls didn’t know what they were missing. 

For this tunnel, the exit was dug into an old Mexican restaurant. Old red and green decorations still hung tattered and faded. While colorful sombreros hung on the walls bugs probably crawling underneath. His gaze lingers on the room, missing the taste of fresh food but more importantly the nights he cooked with Pepper. His eyes go glassy, brain lingering with images from that night.

_God, he missed her._

“It’s been too long,” He mutters taking in the overgrown nature and fresh air. The lot looked peaceful, almost like the world hadn’t gone to shit. “Too damn long.”

“Yep, it’s almost like we need fresh air not to go batshit crazy.”

Tony only hums in agreement, realizing Hill wasn’t in his head. She didn’t get the hint about Pepper but he didn’t blame her and moved on. 

“I’m not gonna disagree with you there.”

They continued on taking in the fresh air and the large masses of overgrown plants. Cars sat rotting, vehicles overtaken by plant life. Buildings crumbled as birds sang, it was peaceful, something Pepper would like. Tony blinks a few times almost hearing his wife mutter something about the beauty in nature, the irony of it all. The planet was getting back at them for poisoning it.

“Ugh those dimwits,” Maria huffed drawing Tony out of his daze. “Never can put the damn latter where they found it.”

“I’m sure it’s somewhere.”

“Well then start looking.”

After a quick search for the ladder the other dimwits never left in the same place, they made their way into yet another crumbling building, game room of some sort, mostly overgrown but the pool table was still intact except for a few vines. 

“Ladies first.”

“Lady? You must be thinking of someone different.”

The house they climbed into was run down but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do a quick search for a box of ammo laying around. Chairs and tables were turned over, Avenger logos spray-painted about. In the corner laid an old Avenger dog tag, under a few faded pages belonging to someone named Karen Page. The contents of the room showed the years of decay but still managed to show the initial panic from when the outbreak first started. 

Picking their way to the basement, they both began discussing the shipment of pills and ammo they were picking up from Bruce. Tony was just happy to leave the zone again even if that meant traveling a bit farther. 

“You think Hammer still has our guns?” 

“For his sake, he better.”

“Once our merchandise is back, it should be easy to unload. I’m sure Bruce would pay well, a few extra ration cards wouldn’t- _Shit.”_ Maria comes to a halt in the hallway, hand already grabbing her gasmask clipped to her side. “Spores.”

_Fuck, they didn’t need this._

Tony follows suit adjusting his mask not wanting to risk and form of infection. It just wasn’t the bites anymore, it was the spores too. The damn infected and their fucking fungal parasite in their brain. Stupid infection doing everything it could to claim more victims even after the host’s death. When the infected finally kicks the bucket, like normal corpses, it starts to decay and turn into mounds of fungus. And from that fungus sprouts disgusting, flower-like spouts spewing spores. Breathing those stupid things meant infection, _meant turning into one of those freaks._

So, masks all day every day.

“Where the hell-“ Tony mutters slipping under a fallen beam. “This place was clear last time — where is this coming from.”

“They’re coming from something,” She responds. “Might even be multiple stay alert.”

“Isn’t today shaping up nicely?”

“Welcome to the end of the world Stark, shit tends to hit the fan.”

They squeeze through a short crawl space, a few rats running by as the thick spores surrounded them. They reach the end, the head room finally growing as a relatively fresh infected body laid out for them. 

“Found our culprit.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw,” Maria quietly clapped. “The body isn’t very old, keep your eyes peeled.” 

Tony nodded, then surveyed the spore-filled area, his light shining through the floating green fuckers. “There.” He spotted a blocked doorway with enough space to squeeze through.

He went first this time, easing through the debris and into the next room. It was some form of office space, ceiling caving in as pieces nearly fall on him decay heavily apparent here. He yelps suddenly, nearly jumping out of his skin when something latched onto his ankle. Tony jerked away heart racing as he tried to push Maria out of harm's way. His friend stumbled over the arm both of them finally taking in what grabbed his ankle. 

A man pinned beneath a large rusting filing cabinet gasping and wheezing. The man coughs, gas mask sporting a rather nasty crack in the glass. The dude was in the early stages of infection, not too far from losing his damn mind. Tony recognizes him, some guy named Paxton he’s passed in the tunnels before. 

“Please, help..help me,” Paxton wheezed, reaching up at both of them. My-My mask broke. Don’t...don’t leave me to turn,” He gags this time shaking a bit. _“Please.”_

What the poor bastard was asking is a no brainer in this world, many would rather die before turning into those freaks. Tony breathed, thanking his lucky stars for a working mask. He glances over to Hill, pulling out his pistol and cocking it. It was a no brainer to end the guy’s suffering, he would want someone to do that to him too. Besides, the last thing they need is more freaks in the area. 

A quick shot to the head makes the man go silent, another bullet gone from their low supply of ammo. They scrounge around after that, searching for anything useful that the man or other left behind. Advancing through the building after several minutes cautiously before being halted by dreaded sounds of frantic infected. 

_Fucking great._

“How do you want to handle this?”

Instinctively they moved towards some form of cover as quietly as they could. They settle on each side of an open doorway, Tony closing his eyes and focusing his hearing on the movements. By the sounds coming up ahead, it sounded like there were about two runners and one clicker. He then peeks around the corner, eyes landing on the slow jerking movements of the clicker in front of the doorway. The two runners were a bit further down, making the aggressive, yet the almost satisfied sound of demolishing their prey. 

“Three,” He mouths already pointing to the single infected or clicker. 

He worked through plans in his head for the next few moments. He could take the first one quietly, no problem there. However, the other two were impossible to stealth without instantly alerting the other. Tony held up a hand to Maria as he moved, crouched, and inched his way closer to the back of the hunched growling clicker. 

Like lightning, he shot up grabbing the spore creature around the neck with a rusted metal pipe. Using all his strength, he pushed backward snapping the neck with a quick pull. Snapping the neck cut the brain off from the body, essentially killing the infected host. There was no fuss, no noise besides the slight rasping gasp from the freak. 

Tony laid the body down gently as the other two continued to feast on whoever they found. Maria shortly joined him, back pressed to the wall with peeling wallpaper looking up ahead. She cusses under her breath as the blood spatter continues. The victim's body jerks lifeless, infected freaks going to town on its insides. He finally gets a good look at the mess, shaking his head. 

“Jesus,” He whispers already pocketing the pipe in his bag. He could use this later. “Draw them out.”

“First shot on me,” She nodded, raising her pistol. “Once they start running, shoot.”

She shoots into the other room after that, shooting at nothing waiting to kick their plan into gear. Instantly, the infected were up and pounding towards them, screaming with glee at the prospect of more prey. Tony kept his gun trained at the doorway and waited for the first shadowy figure to appear. 

When it did, he fired into it once, waiting as the infected snapped back. He shot at it again as it tried to continue forward. The second infected ran out of the side towards Maria. A third bullet and the first freak was down in its own bloody spore mess. He whirls towards the other one only to see Maria spearing its head and slamming it against the wall. She heaves firing a shot through its skull. The body falls lifeless, brain matter and blood splattered across the walls. No more freaks in sight. 

“Alright,” She huffed looking a bit winded herself. “That’s all of them.”

“Hopefully.”

“Let’s head back into the city, I’m tired of dealing with these freaks.”

They move on and up a flight of stairs making sure no other freaks were lingering in shadows. Light filters in once more, sunlight landing on a note recently placed. The ink looked almost fresh, not smudged from decay. 

_Hey brother,_

_We were so close. I’m sitting outside the walls knowing I’ll never see the inside of the zone. While waiting for the smuggler to show up, we heard a squad of soldiers approaching. In our panic, we ducked into this building in hopes of hiding from them. None of us noticed the spores until it was too late. We’re all infected — we have a few hours, maybe a day at most._

Tony stops reading, knowing all too well what people do to get inside the zones. People wanted safety, a place where the infected weren’t looming over them. As bad as the zones are, there are all these people trapped outside the zones wishing to be inside without getting shot at. A lose-lose scenario in a shitty world. Maria reads the note next, sighing before crumbling the paper up. Her lips are drawn into a thin line, making her way outside.

They stumble their way through the decaying building, masks sticking to their sweating faces. Summer heat sucked on treks like this, flannels, and pants not helping either. Finally, they make it outside, back in the fresh air, and far away from the spores. They take their masks off already enjoying freedom. 

“Fresh air, God I love it. The city fucking reeks.”

“Maybe Bruce can hook you up with some air fresheners,” He joked. 

“If they weren’t expired I’ll steal all of them.”

They cross through a small green pond, quickly moving through a vine-covered hole and into a collapsing warehouse. Trees have taken over inside, branches, and roots spreading all over the remains of the building. Together, they cross over a decaying plank, weaving through back alleys careful of soldiers patrolling the area. Maria quickly jogs over to another building slamming open a heavy metal door as they traveled finally to the secret zone entrance. 

She knocks on the door, a tiny dirt-covered boy peeking through. His tiny eyes widen gaze following the few rations cards Maria slips out. She waves them around, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. 

“Alright little man, make sure the coast is clear.” She holds them above his body. “No soldiers, no Hammer’s men. Got it?”

The little boy nodded, grabbing them before slipping through the door. Tony’s heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing to his ears. He lets out a shaky breath, hand tightening around his backpack strap until his knuckles turned white. 

_He could have had a kid, he could have-_

A sudden knock comes from the door, Maria already opening the cracked door as his brain tried to snap out of its daze. Tony follows behind her, slipping through the door into a village-like atmosphere of the zone slums. He glances around, people shooting him dirty looks but making no move to come close. Traveling through here wasn’t always so swell, in fact, without Hill here he might have gotten in a fight or two. 

Maria Hill was a savior to these people in an odd way. His resting bitch face friend, just one of the only people actually helping feed and clothe these people. She reunited people, allowing the slums to have some sort of stability. Especially since her no-nonsense attitude and fighting skills kept unwanted asshats in check. A while back she did mention working for a branch in government and Tony was pretty sure she was some ex-FBI or CIA agent. Either way, he was just glad she wasn't his enemy. 

Together they walk through makeshift booths selling everything from fried tunnel rats and guard dogs. They soon stumble upon a fighting ring, bloody people recklessly throwing punches at each other. A few people cheered, one girl, hitting the pavement as some asshat tried to cause trouble with Tony. 

“And just what do you-”

Maria takes a step in front of him, giving her friend a bit of distance from the smell coming off ratty dude. Her eyes narrowed, hand stopping the man from walking closer. She shoves him back, foot already swiping at his knee. The man falls to the ground with a yelp, Hill shoving him aside with a scoff. 

“Mind your own fucking business, Cross.”

He backs away still on the ground. “Sorry, Hill.”

She ignores him walking forward as Tony gives him the finger. They walk a little more before she stops gesturing to the man chilling against the gate. Wordlessly she held up some ration cards, eyes narrowed and striking fear. 

“I’m looking for Hammer,” She waves them around playfully. “He come through here?”

“Half-hour ago,” He shrugged. Went to the wharf, he’s there now.”

She nods exchanging a few cards before smirking at Tony. “Shall we get out shit back, Mr. Stark?”

“We shall, Ms. Hill.”

________

The alleyway they stumbled upon was covered in spray-painted A’s and other Avengers’ propaganda, including Natasha and Steve’s symbols. Both leaders of the Avengers and sporting some weird names given to themselves by the public. Captain American, America’s golden boy trying to establish the governments once again. His symbols were littered on all military notices, red, white, and blue paint displaying two circles with a star in the middle. But what really drove home their mission was Natasha’s status as the Black Window. A mysterious woman who the military couldn’t take on themselves always outwitted, always three steps behind. Her symbols were mostly on the buildings, red hourglass in a black circle detailing relating to the latest Avenger activity. 

Empty spray paint cans laid by the side, fresh paint reading the latest in American anarchy, _‘Follow the light, follow the Avengers.’_ Tony scoffs, rolling his eyes wanting to get away from all this propaganda. Sure he understood trying to establish the government once again but at this point, he just wanted to survive. There could be no government when the world was so disconnected. 

Finally, at the end of the decorated alley, it opened up to a wide concrete clearing where three of Hammer’s goons waited. The thugs grouped together as they approached, an obvious standoff against him and Hill. 

_Hammer clearly wasn’t fucking around this time._

_Coward._

“Let us through,” Tony hissed. 

“You guys need to turn around and head back if you know what’s good for you,” The main goon snapped back.

“Our beef isn’t with you,” Maria huffs. “We just want Hammer.”

“Turn around and go back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

Maria tilted her head and pretended to mull it over. She hissed through her teeth. “Ooh, see, I can’t exactly do that. We came here for Hammer and I hate to add you into the mess.”

The goon apparently didn’t agree. “Bitch, I will bash your pretty little head in if you don’t turn the fuck around right now.”

There was a beat of silence, Maria glancing over to Tony then back to the men, lips drawn in a thin line. 

She sighed, “Fuck this.” Before putting a bullet in the sneering guy’s brain. 

Then the rest of the shooting started. 

“Take cover!”

“I’m going fucking kill you—!”

Tony and Maria dart between a few stacked crates, leaving the dead goon lying dead in his own pool of blood. The other two men dart behind other crates, clearly surprised by her sudden actions. Maria Hill doesn’t fuck around when it comes to her things and she damn well won’t let some man tell her what to do. 

“Damn-“

“Stop gaping and start firing. I’ll cover you.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

He darts from cover to cover, gun drawn and trying to take out the stream of Hammer’s goons coming out from the sudden noise. Maria snuck up on a few, stabbing their necks before moving onto a new cover. The sorry sons of bitches went down quickly as they moved forwards pushing the men back. No matter how many goons Hammer had on his invisible payroll, they never were quite smart in their fighting tactics. Otherwise, they would be working for the ass in the first place since the tool was flat out broke. 

Blood splatter caked both of their faces, Hammer's men littering the multiple rooms they combed through. Beforehand, Tony would have a near panic attack if he killed this many people in a short amount of time. However, twenty years in an apocalypse can change how a person reacts in this world. Now, he doesn’t bat an eye at killing someone; he had to change, to live in a place where violence is the only way to survive. He cleans his knife, watching as Maria sighs and wiped her forehead. 

“You ok?”

“Just peachy,” She bit back. “Let’s get this asshole.”

As a unit, they finally reach the docks, bodies stealthy running from cover to cover using crates, decaying walls, and anything to keep hidden. A few more men litter the dock, all looking for any signs of trouble. They reach a crumbling wall, just high enough to cover both of them if they crouched. 

Maria spots Hammer first, stupid designer glasses sitting on his head. She nudges Tony’s shoulder. “There’s our boy.”

Hammer stands by a few of his men, decked out in old designer clothes as well. Nothing too worn or faying just how the man had to have things. Justin Hammer never did the dirty work and he knew all too well on to get his people to do things for him. 

“That cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let’s go wrap this up.”

The two jump down from their hiding place, hiding behind a large shipment. Seagulls fly up above, their squawks drowning out most of the goon’s conversation. The sea air hits them, the salty wind sending a nice refreshing breeze their way. 

“Yeah well, we lost our contacts in the North. Lost our contacts in the South, shit I don’t know who’s even left out there.”

“And that’s why our asses are stuck here as protection detail.”

“That rat better be worth it.”

Maria darts around the side as the two men break apart, a small knife slipping into her hand as her legs take her to her next victim. She pounces, left arm yanking the man’s head back as she sends him to an early grave. She winks at Tony, doing the same thing to the other goon before anyone realized. Hill had to be a secret agent, he was sure of it. 

Tony is quick to follow her lead, using his fair share of stray bricks and bottles to take down and distract some goons. Once distracted, he either shivs them like Hill or strangles the idiot before others could glance their way. 

They stumble upward, more bodies hitting the floor before they finally found Hammer hiding in his office. The coward hid behind some desk firing a few rounds. They stay hidden, protected by the doorway as he tries to shoot them. 

“Get back! Get the fuck back!”

“We just wanna talk Justin,” Maria tries already indicating with her face she actually wasn’t in the mood to talk but Hammer didn’t need to know. “Put your gun down.”

“We ain’t got fuckin’ nothing to talk about!” Hammer chucks his empty gun at the doorway making a mad dash for the exit. 

“He’s running!” Tony glances inside once the gun hits the floor before booking it after him. “Hammer!”

“Screw you Stark!” 

They both bust through the exit hot on the heels of Hammer. Tony kicks the door down leading to another alleyway as Justin tries to run away. In his sprint, he knocks over trash cans legs not fast enough. They looped through another building jumping out of a glass-free window. They land in an alley, only this time, Justin is stopped by a locked gate. 

“Come on-” He whispers as the two walked towards him. He shakes the gate again. “Damnit come on!”

“Hello, Justin,” Maria taunts smugly. “It’s been a while.” 

Hammer turned slowly, his normal squirrely expression transforming into a fake ass charming one trying to mask his fear. She steps closer, boot already breaking his famous pair of designer glasses. Justin doesn’t make a sound, only allowing his thin smile to give away his fear. 

“Maria, Tony,” He grins glancing nervously at the two of them. “You know you two are looking pretty dare I say good. I mean the world ended and you two, _wow._ ” Maria bent down and slowly picked up a metal pipe. Tony stood by idly, waiting. “Hey look, no hard feelings right?”

“Might wanna ask the lady.”

“Heh, that's a good-” Hammer stuttered out before he darted forward, trying to bypass Maria but got a pipe to the shins for his trouble. He landed hard, cursing, and groaning. Maria began to circle him like a calculating lioness. Tony stayed where he was enjoying the show. _“Ah! Shit, fuck!”_

“We missed you,” Tony added smirking playing with the knife in his hand.

Hammer heaves, clutching his leg in pain. “Look, Maria-” She got closer, dragging her pip along the ground. “Look, whatever you heard, it ain’t true. I-”

“The guns,” She interrupted. “I don’t give a flying fuck about your excuses. Where are our guns?”

“Sweetheart I-” Justin made eye contact with Maria. “Right sorry, I know where they are. I-It’s just a bit complicated, alright?”

Tony bit his lip trying to stop breaking out in laughter. The balls that this man had to try and pull one over them. Justin Hammer was still trying to charm his way out of things. He glances at Maria, eyes holding a conversation they could only understand. He wanted in on the show and she was letting him. 

“So hear me out on-”

Hammer was interrupted by Tony’s boot in his face. His knee shoved into his back making sure Justin couldn’t recover before grabbing his arm and pulling it back just before the breaking point. The coward sputtered and gasped for a few moments, then managed to grin up at Tony with bloody teeth.

“You like this, Tony? Pinning me down and-” 

Tony is quick to slam his head down once more, twisting Hammer’s arm until he screams. He squirms, tears filling his eyes like the punk he is. Maria squats down to their level, eyes still having the same sharpness as before.

_“_ Stop squirming, and tell us about the guns.” 

“I-” Hammer was breathing heavily, blood dripping from his mouth. His voice lowered an octave. “I-I sold them.”

There was a beat, both friends making eye contact. The silence is cutting, leaving Justin to panic some more. 

“Excuse me? Come again?”

“I didn’t have a choice, I owe someone—”

Tony squeezes his arm harder. “You _owed_ us, jackass. I’d say you bet on the wrong horse.” 

“I just need more time, gimme a week-”

Maria yanks his hair upward, Tony still keeping him pinned. Hammer yelps as she holds onto a fistful of his hair not planning on letting go. 

“You know, Hammer,” She seethed. “I just might’ve done that if your punk ass didn’t try to kill me.” 

“C’mon it wasn’t-”

“Who has our _fucking_ guns?”

There was another pause, Justin shaking his head begging for a few more days. Hill and Tony share a knowing look, an evil smirk appearing on her lips. He snaps the dick’s arm, breaking it as Hammer cries out in pain. 

They weren’t playing games anymore.

“I suggest you answer Maria’s questions,” He warns. “She’s not as nice as I am.” 

“It...It’s the Avengers. I owe the Avengers.” Hammer gazes at their stern expressions already trying to make the best of the situation. “Okay, _okay_ look-- they are basically all dead. The military has been wiping them out. We can just go in there and finish ‘em off. You get your guns back and this episode just put this behind us. What do you say?” 

Tony leans back from Hammer and stood up just as Maria did. They glanced at each other. Hammer stared up at them, hope glimmering. He was still trying to pull a fast one over them.

“That,” Maria began clearly pissed, “Is a stupid fucking idea.” And shot him twice between the eyes.

Hammer bled out on the pavement, ending a not so worth it trip after all. Tony started to feel the toll of the long-ass day. Now made worse because the punk-ass dick didn’t give their guns back. 

_Fucking Hammer._

“Well,” He sighed wiping some of the blood off his face. “Now what?”

“I mean,” She shrugged still annoyed too. “We get our guns back.”

He scoffed. “We? Get our guns back from the Avengers. Yeah, that’s gonna go well.”

“Well do you have any other ideas?”

“Certainly not.” 

“We’ll just explain it to them or something. Look, let’s just— let’s go find an Avenger.

“You won’t have to look very far.”

Their heads snapped up and towards the voice. They have their guns ready, eyes watching as two limping figures appeared out of the shadows. Just a few feet stood the very people they were trying to beat, Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. 

Well, their just day just got more interesting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to mention this beforehand, but as everyone knows Last of Us Part II is out so please avoid spoiling for others! Granted certain elements were leaked :/ but the overall game wasn't (let's give people a chance to play). However Part I is free game because it has been literally seven years lol.
> 
> Special thanks to all the lovely comments I got on the first chapter, means a lot <3
> 
> ~ Hannah


	3. Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trust me Hill, we don’t give a damn about ration cards,” Natasha said letting that sink in. Her lips formed a thin line, clearly not happy with the situation either. “We need something smuggled out of the city.” 
> 
> More silence follows, both friends already regretting asking. 
> 
> “You do that,” Steve chimed in. “We’ll give you your guns back and then some. But this job needs to be done.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my artist, [neydraws-blog](https://neydraws-blog.tumblr.com/) for the amazing artwork! Love how the piece turned out and everyone should go show their other work some love :)
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of death, guns, alcohol, and some gore

Tony shifted on the back of his heels, an uneasy feeling growing in his stomach. He glares at the two figures still lingering back ready to draw his gun if he needs to. Just because he and the Avengers were on decent terms didn’t mean things could go south. 

Natasha and Steve finally limp forward, pain breaths coming from both of them. The Widow’s fiery red bangs were matted down with blood, gun at her side held by a trembling hand. Her other free hand was pressed to her side, bleeding and staining her jacket. Steve follows looking a bit better but still sporting a nasty arm and leg gashes. 

“There you go, you summoned the King and Queen Avengers.”

Steve scoffed with Maria, America’s golden boy stepping further into the ally as a glint of light through the fence above them shined on his blonde hair and pale skin. Natasha stumbles forward sucking in a painful breath but still standing upright. The rest of her red hair pinned up in a bun, sharp eyes like Maria already taking in the scene in front of her. 

“What are you two doing here?” She sounded exasperated and pained. 

“We had some business to attend to,” Maria’s comment was vague as she stared both of them down. 

They both sighed, clearly roughed up from the day’s events. Whether it's from the explosion or not, they clearly had a shit day. Natasha is the first to see Justin’s body, muttering something under breath in another language. Steve just simply cursed in glaring at both of them, eyes making them seem like traitors to their own country. 

Natasha finally spoke, an angry huff of air escaping from her lips. “We needed him alive.” 

“And we need the guns he gave you,” Maria matched Natasha’s gaze. “They weren’t his to sell. I want them back.”

Steve scoffed once more. “Doesn’t work like that, Maria. We paid for those damn guns." His shaky blood-covered finger points at her. "You want them back? You gotta earn them.” 

_ Of course, they fucking did.  _

They both share a knowing look having a conversation with their eyes. She sighed as Tony just shrugged, of course, they had to pay damn Avengers for their guns.

_Fucking Hammer._

“How many cards are we talking about?”

“Trust me Hill, we don’t give a damn about ration cards,” Natasha said letting that sink in. Her lips formed a thin line, clearly not happy with the situation either. “We need something smuggled out of the city.” 

More silence follows, both friends already regretting asking. 

“You do that,” Steve chimed in. “We’ll give you your guns back and then some. But this job needs to be done.” 

Tony decides to speak now. “How do we even know you have them? Last I heard the military has been wiping you guys out.”

She looks away and closes her eyes briefly. “You're right about that. We’ll show the weapons.”

Just then, the sound of soldiers speaking and radio static could be heard in the distance.  _ “Search the area.” _ Rogers and Romanoff perked up feet already shifting to an exit.

“We’ve got to go, what’s it gonna be?”

Tony looked at Maria. “I wanna see those guns, we came all this way,” She decided.

“Guess that settles it then,” He sighed wishing for a drink right about now. 

________

Escaping the squad of oncoming soldiers was child’s play. They’ve done it before and they would so all again to avoid any form of punishment. Besides, Tony couldn’t wait to stop hearing the queen and king bee telling them to speed up when their asses were the ones with bleeding wounds. Still, he had to admit that the shortcuts used were expertly planned and thought out. There was a reason why the top rank of Avengers were not caught, they had to always be three steps ahead. 

After weaving through another shortcut, the group landed on a rooftop sneaking overhead as they watched the military blowing up a squad of Avenger fights. They cringe, eyes lingering on the fires growing as gunshots echoed. Today was not a great day for the zone and the days following wouldn’t bode well for the rest of citizens. 

Once there was a chance to breathe, Tony turned to Natasha. “So you wanna explain what’s going on or is the military really wiping you out like a bunch of files?”

Natasha actually looks more affected by his statement than from her wound. “It’s complicated,” She sighed. “We’ve been quiet, trying to leave the city and well these assholes needed a scapegoat. They’ve been trying to rile us up ever since.”

“Looks like they succeeded,” Maria added.

“We’re trying to defend ourselves,” Steve snapped. “In a world like this, you have to fight back. It’s basic survival, otherwise, you lose too much.”

The thought of Pepper’s body flashed through his head, pools of blood staining his pants as he clutched her dead body. Tony swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes going glassy trying to hold it together. He knew all too well what happens when basic survival wasn’t met, those losses were learned earlier on. 

Quietly they cut through a building, finally stepping out into an alley only to be met with a small patrol of soldiers. They’re quick and quiet, darting to different covers not wanting anymore added attention. They listened to soldiers mutter to themselves about the Avengers, cursing their names as the two leaders shook their heads. It’s over as soon as it started, soldiers taken down quietly until they passed out. 

They jog through another doorway, both girls shutting the door before both men shove a locker to block the entrance. Natasha stumbles a bit, Steve walking behind her ready to catch her at any moment. They both look like they’re running on fumes: wounds and blood loss getting to them. The announcement lady comes blaring overhead, earning an eye roll from all of them.

_ “Attention. Curfew is now in full effect. Anyone caught outside without proper authorization will be arrested and prosecuted.” _

“Shit. We need to hurry,” Steve muttered to the group. 

“Where are we going? Maria asked. “And what the hell are we smuggling?”

“We’ll show you,” Natasha huff. “Just follow us, it’s up here.” 

They were directed to what looked to be an old communal kitchen in some warehouse they walked into. 

Natasha gestured to a rusted metal door. “Steve, gimme a hand with this.”

Together, the Avengers both pressed their weight against it while Steve twisted the handle. The door shrieked, then gave away. Natasha collapsed into the room as the door fell open. Steve himself could barely stand, heaving against the wall.

“Jesus, you two,” Tony huffed trying to help Natasha up. “You really took a damn-”

_ “Get the fuck away from her!” _

Tony’s instincts warned him of the incoming attack before he actually saw his attacker. He whirled away from a pained Natasha, arms at the ready just as the glint of a small knife and brown curls on the head of a small figure came into view. He didn’t know who it was, the pitch of the attacker’s voice sounded young, almost like a kid. Maria barreled forward, hand catching the attacker’s knife jerking away. 

“Let him go,” Steve said calmly, but in a commanding enough voice that it had Tony turning back to look at him as he propped himself up with the edge of a counter, he helped his friend up, blood covering her entire right side.

“Recruiting a bit young, aren’t you?” Maria snarked taking a look at the kid.

“Not one of ours,” Natasha huffed. “Peter is  _ not _ an Avenger.” 

“Oh shit, oh shit.” Tony heard, and then something he hadn’t seen up close for a long... _long_ time run from behind him to Steve and Natasha’s side and mutter repeatedly, “What happened?”

It was a kid, a  _ teenage kid _ ...Named Peter. 

He nearly falls over trying to regain some composure. He blinked, bewildered by the sight in front of him. Teenagers were relatively scarce nowadays, people, in general, took a while to even think about bringing kids into this type of world. Kids were mostly born a year after the initial outbreak, most people now staying far away from the pregnancy. It was almost a death sentence if someone got pregnant, groups either abandoned the sudden burden or process of childbirth killed them off. The world today wasn’t meant for kids, babies needed stability and this hellhole was far from it. It was only until recently that people in the zone started having kids, but even then those parents faced struggles. 

_ But teenagers? That was a rare sight in the zone.  _

Tony glanced over the kid once more, heart thumping loudly in his chest. The kid in front of him looked about thirteen, most likely fourteen, maybe even fifteen. That was more than ten years ago and back then only a few years into the end of the world. Having a kid then was unheard of, should have been but people weren’t always careful. Hence this short, thin boy with a mop of brown curls currently fussing over his pals like a nervous hen...or more like a worried puppy.

A short, skinny, teenage boy with lots of brown hair with a face too young to even experience the horrors of this world. Tony felt sick, hands gripping onto his backpack until his knuckles turned white once more. The ultrasound lingered back into his mind, the thought of his own kid standing beside him nearly knocking the wind out of him. His kid would have been twenty or nineteen now, they still would have been alive if he just-

_ Push it down, push it down.  _

_ Don’t be stupid. It’s just a kid but it’s not your kid.  _

_ It’s fine. _

_ It wasn’t.  _

“Guys what-” Peter urged taking a look at both of them. “What happened?”

Nat seemed the calmest, sitting down and taking a load off. “Nothing major, it’s fixable. Steve got a few gashes all good. Besides we found help.”

“Help?”

“They're here to help but we,” Steve sat down next to Natasha with a painful hiss. “Can’t come with you.” 

The boy’s expression was so wrecked, nerves and distress splayed across his face. The young kid’s distressed almost tugged at Tony’s chest,  _ almost.  _ This was a damn child,  _ not his.  _ Why was he here?

“Screw it then, I’m staying.” 

“Peter,” He warned in pain. “Please don’t start okay? We won’t get another shot at this.”

It hit Tony like a ton of bricks, stomach doing backflips. “I’m sorry we’re smuggling  _ him _ ?” 

Natasha only just nodded as Steve settled back in a chair clearly tried. They both look worse for wear, they wouldn’t be able to make the journey.

“There’s a crew of Avengers that’ll meet you at the Capitol building. They’ll take Peter off your hands once you get there. You drop him off, come back, and the weapons are all yours, double what Hammer promised you.”

Maria just glared at them like they were mad. “That’s not exactly close.” 

“I’m sorry but both of you have made drops for us in the past, you're capable.” Steve snapped. 

“Oh yes, the main reason why we’re here today,” Tony glances around the room trying to avoid all forms of eye contact with the kid. He really didn’t need a constant reminder of what he could of had. “Our guns, where are they?”

“Back at our camp.”

Maria scoffed with her whole body, now pissed off and letting her eyes glare daggers. “We’re not smuggling jackshit until I see them.”

The two Avengers shared a look, both nodding in agreement. 

“Sure whatever,” Steve sighed. “You’ll follow us back to town, we’ll get patched up, you can verify the merchandise.” He gestured to Peter, who was still watching him like a nervous puppy. “But he’s not crossing into that part of town, and I don’t like leaving him alone at night.”

Natasha chimes in. “Tony can watch over him.” 

“You both must be out of your mind from blood loss if you think _—_ ”

“Bullshit! I’m not staying with this _—_ ”

_ “Kid, Parker! _ ” The boy huffed at Natasha’s admonishment, but shut up.

But only for a second staring not so menacingly. “How do you even know  _ them? _ ”

“We were close with Tony’s brother, Rhodey and he said if I ever was in a jam, I could rely on him.”

The mention of Rhodey nearly shuts his brain down once more, memories coming back like a wave. The two of them surviving, two brothers trying to find a place in the world. The fights, the arguments, the parting of ways. Two people drifting apart, many things left unsaid. 

“Was that before or after he went out with the wind on your little militia group?”

“Doesn’t matter. He left you, too. Still doesn’t mean he isn’t a good man.” 

_ He left you. _

_ You left him. _

Tony shut up after that, trying his hardest not to let any unwanted emotions out. This was not what he wanted today, not what he needed. 

“Just-” Maria sighed taking a step over to Tony. “Just take him to the north tunnel and wait for me there.” 

“Hill-”

“He’s just cargo, Stark.” The look she gave him told him she knew exactly why he was so hesitant. “Just another shipment.”

Behind them, both were speaking softly to the boy, Steve’s hands on his shoulders. “It’s alright. I trust them, you’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna work out.”

Tony could see that the boy was trembling slightly and trying his hardest to hide it. He couldn’t exactly blame the kid for being scared. After all, he was being sent off on a dangerous, illegal journey to very much prohibited areas with a couple of brash strangers to be handed off to more strangers. 

_ Hold it together, Stark.  _

_ He was just a little kid, just a scared boy— _

_ Fuck, Fuck. It was already happening. His damn heart full of empathy already worrying and caring for the kid.  _

This needed to be over with as soon as possible. 

He glances out the window, giving one more look to Maria. “Come on, it’s getting dark and I don’t want to be fucking out here anyway. Stay close, I will not slow down for you, got it?” 

Peter only responded with a nasty look than the trash piling around. Tony ignored the stinging feeling in his chest, pushing all forms of emotions away. Hating him will make this trip so much easier. He walked out the door with Peter in tow, sighing for the millionth time today. He wanted a drink or two, not some kid. He didn’t need this, he didn’t need the weight of the photo in his pocket weighing him down even more. 

Damn kid, damn memories, damn fucking heart that brought this upon him. 

________

The journey to the tunnel was luckily a short way away from the warehouse they exited. Even with the short walk, Tony couldn’t help but feel like things were dragging on. Sure he didn’t have to worry about two bleeding Avengers anymore but he did have a naive kid following him like a lost puppy. Moppy brown curls almost falling into his eyes wearing an old red t-shirt over a striped black long sleeve with dirty jeans. The boy kicked a glass bottle, his muddy boots stained the pavement.

Anytime the kid tried to make idle conversation, he was shut down by Tony using one-word responses and few insults trying to get the boy to snap back. So for time and his headache's sake, he didn’t talk to the kid beyond directing him where to go. A few tense words were shared, Tony grabbing the back of Peter’s shirt so the dumbass would walk right into a military patrol lights. 

The last thing he wanted to do was talk to the kid. He didn’t want to get connected, to allow his heart to care for one more damn person. He couldn’t remember, couldn’t feel anything he’s been pushing down for a long time. He just needed things to wrap up.

Some dark twisted part of him wanted the kid to hate his guts before they got to the tunnel, to want no part in continuing his idle conversation. But the dorky comments continued, Peter didn’t seem to be bothered by his nasty attitude. In fact, the kid just sassed right back with a stupid smirk. 

The damn kid just making things harder.

Then they reached the aftermath of the battle between the military and the Avengers. One in which the soldiers had definitely won. Peter stared at the bodies littering the ground, staining the already dirty pavement with a crimson hue. Some of the Avengers were burnt, smoldering bodies mixing in with ones racked with bullet holes. 

The kid just started with a slightly disturbed look in his eyes, not as bothered as Tony though he should have been. This was a kid, a kid would almost didn’t bat an eye by the large mounds of bodies. 

Peter didn’t look quite as timid as he had earlier, violent death like these was a common occurrence in his shitshow. Children born into his world were no longer shocked by the sight of a dead body. There wasn’t a barrier to these sights like before, it was just outside there for everyone to see. Nowadays they couldn’t afford to be scared of such sights. But still, it didn’t mean that the gentle kids, like Peter wouldn't be affected by it. Hell, Tony felt his breath hitch at the sight, stomach-churning.

“Whoa, I-I heard all the shooting…” The kid’s voice trails off taking in the sight. Wanted posters hung around the walls different Avengers appearing. More spray paint litter the walls, different propaganda appearing. “Nat and Steve just disappeared after that. W-What happened here?”

The soft, childish question was directed at him, some dead instincts starting to resurface. He always liked kids, always was good with—  _ Jesus.  _

_ He can’t handle this shit. He could have been a father, he could have had... everything. _

“Avengers,” Tony sighed kicking a stray pebble. “The military and Avengers, both fighting each other,” He walks past a dead man, bullet wounds littering his body. “The military seemingly won this one.”

Peter nodded solemnly, brown eyes wide and childlike. Tony’s heart started to ache once more the baby coming to mind. “Morgan” should be here, Pepper should be standing here, breathing and alive not buried in an unmarked grave by one of the places she loved. 

“And the same thing will happen to us if we don’t get off the street,” He bit back much to Peter’s surprise. “Come on move it.”

“Y-Yeah, you're right.”

The announcement lady booms overhead, robotic voice commenting something much different.  _ “Attention. Harboring or aiding wanted criminals is punishable by death. Do not place yourself at risk. Report any suspicious activity immediately.” _

Tony scoffed at that comment. People wouldn’t be putting themselves at risk if the damn zone actually ran the area right. Like all zones, they were all filled with selfish people, selfish soldiers abusing the power they had. A few armor trucks drive by as he yanks Peter to side directing him to a stairway that leads under the street for a few feet. 

“Come on kid,” He sighs shoving him forward. “Move it, do you want to end up with a bunch of lead in you?”

Peter shot him another glare, _good he needed to hate him._ “Not necessarily.”

The walk is silent after that both of them trying their hardest to sneak by soldiers. The trucks seemed to pay no attention to them, alleyways mostly empty as the north tunnel finally came into view. Tony lugs a dumpster over placing it under the fire escape before hopping up on the platform. Peter followed, eyes taking in the old building with a child-like curiosity _. _

“So this tunnel,” He asks not picking up on the fact that Tony doesn’t want to talk. “You use it to smuggle things?”

“Yep.”

“Like…” He could practically hear the smirk just as he turned to see Peter wiggling his eyebrows. “Illegal things?”

He had to bite back a laugh, _a stupid laugher. Damn kid._ “Sometimes, it depends.”

“You ever smuggle a kid before?”

“Nope, that’s a first.”

“Really? Why not?”

Tony broke nearly cursing out loud. Why does this kid have so many damn questions?

“ _ Why—?  _ Jesus kid, it’s not normal.”

“Neither is the infected, I mean smuggling people is just another job isn’t it?

“ _ What—?  _ How many damn times have they tried to smuggle you?”

“Nah, this is my first time. Kind of exciting in a weird way.”

“You have serious issues.”

“Says the man with a weird-ass goatee.”

“Smartass,” He grumbled itching his stubble. Damn kid, he quite liked his goatee when he could shave. 

He’d already played into the kid’s tactic to get him to talk and refused to continue to rise to the bait.  _ Goddamn it. _ Tony’s been alone with him for twenty minutes and the kid is already manipulating him.

They walk through the hallway, decay clearly shown all over. Like most places in the zone, most of the tan walls are worn with wood paneling sticking out. Trash and other junk littered on the floor, smell still not as bad as the other mess Maria and him crawled through.

“So what’s the deal with you, Natasha and Steve? It’s not like their type to lug some kid around.” 

Peter’s smug expression when blank, hands playing with the hem of his old t-shirt some faded design unreadable. “I don’t know, they’re my friend’s I guess.” 

“Your friends?” He laughed a bit still leading the way mindful of splitting hardwood. “You’re friends with the two big shot leaders of the Avengers. What are you like eleven, twelve?”

“First off,” Peter sighed, Tony could hear the eye roll from his spot. “I’m not fucking twelve, I’m fifteen, I just turned fifteen but none of that matters.”

_ His kid would probably be twenty by now, a young adult with so much- _

He deflects, pushes it down.“Oh, big boy is using some grownup words now.”

“Fuck you,” The kid snapped half-heartedly. “They knew my parents a long time ago, they have been keeping an eye out for me.”

“You know, great idea,” Tony mutters already answering his own question but asks anyway. “Why don’t your parents handle this job?” 

Peter took a long moment to answer. “Where are anyone’s parents lately? Today they either leave the damn kid or die trying to protect them. They’ve been gone a long time.”

They turn up another flight of stairs, Peter kicking a glass bottle to the side. They fall into a small silence, Tony’s brain getting ahead of him. __

“Hm,” He nods. “So instead of just staying in school you what? Just run off with some Avengers looking to save the world?”

“I-” The kid huffs. “Look, SHIELD academy sucked ass anyway, everybody who grew up there tried to leave at some point.”

_ SHIELD Academy. _

The military school where they took orphaned or abandoned kids and made them into soldiers and trained them to kill, Avengers, infected, and civilians alike. Not a place for some dopey eyed kid, especially Peter. Yeah, he didn’t blame them for leaving. 

“Then what made you finally leave?”

Peter straightened his shoulders and his face took on the stubborn look of a bull. “Look -- I um--” He muttered under his breath sighing. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything if that’s where you're getting at.”

“Well then great, that’s the beauty of this job. I don’t have to know why and honestly I couldn’t give two shits on what you're up too.”

“Y-Yeah, great.” 

He stopped at the end of the hall and opened the grungy door to the small, dirty apartment that had a great resemblance to his own living space. He left the door open for Peter to close, flopped down onto the moth-eaten green couch, and closed his eyes; effectively shutting the kid out. He had enough fill for today and just wanted a drink. There was a moment of quiet, shoes shifting and leaning on the creaky floorboards. 

Tony opened one eye, taking in the unsettled kid. “What?

“Are you just gonna lay there?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Why?”

Damn this kid and his million questions. He just wants to sleep to forget about this damn day. He shuts his eyes once more settling back into the lumpy couch. __

“To kill time, now scram.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” 

“I don’t know, figure something out? That corner looks nice.”

He kept his eyes closed throughout the annoying conversation and all through Peter’s grumbling and cursing as he stalked past the couch. 

“Your watch is broken.” It was a bitter comment, spoken in a snarky, annoying teenage voice.

The comment was a searing knife to his abdomen. His left hand instinctively gripped onto the two rings around his neck. His blood boiled taking everything in his being not to snap at the fucking punk. Peter was a teenager annoyed at the situation, he had no idea what that watch meant. But still, that little shit was already getting under his skin.

Tony doesn’t speak after that, only allowing himself to simmer. His knuckles ached but he didn’t dare let go of those rings. He heaved shifting in his spot before forcing himself to sleep. 

_ …  _

The day the watch broke, Tony barely remembered anything. Just the pure angst and emotions bubbling up and washing over him like a damn tsunami. All he could recall was his sorry ass curled up in some safe house crying like a baby as he desperately tried to fix it chugging a leftover whiskey. Damn infected attacked him out of nowhere, slamming his body to the ground, shattering the very thing he still held dear in this world. __

The moment the world went to shit, he should have taken it off, found some damn box to put it in and protect it. There were too many things that could have happened to this watch, people and creatures were horrid these days. But the damn watch became apart of him now, apart from the last thing that tied him to Pepper. Tony had long since learned every single scratch, groove, and mark on the one thing that used to ground him. 

He has never not noticed that it still had Pepper’s blood dried in the lines of leather detailing. Blood practically coded that watch the moment his wife hit the ground, caked-on, and staining the golden hues that once shined. They all dulled when Pepper died, taking their unborn child with her and leaving nothing but stains.

It wouldn’t clean off no matter how hard he scrubbed. 

_ And he’d scrubbed. _

He’d gone at it with soap and water, with bleach. Even risking hurting the leather band but he didn’t care he wanted that blood gone. Now it was faded, golden hues a weird brownish color still caked in blood,  _ her blood. _

If he let it take over, staring too long at the blood in those lines and think of the implications of the sight, he’d been drowning in whiskey till the morning. That was him the night before, curled up with a bottle of alcohol letting the burning liquid wash away his pain. He drank to avoid the same dream again, the same damn dream his head wouldn’t let him forget.

He would be standing at the same empty lot, eyes overlooking the ruins of his once favorite bar, Wanda’s. The bar where they first met, the bar where he proposed. Rhodey would leave him at some point yelling at him with fury but he knew he deserved everything venomous word uttered. 

The infected would run down, after a woman and newborn child all gaining them. Then Tony would see the familiar strawberry blonde locks, Pepper running with their child. She would trip, familiar faces of the infected all pouncing on their prey. Tony would scream, beg but his body would move, he could only watch as the love of his life was eaten away. 

And the blood? Her blood would go everywhere.

…

“You mumble in your sleep, like a lot.”

Tony had been blinking awake when Peter spoke, prompting him to turn and observe the boy, who had dragged an old cushioned chair in front of the window. He was sitting and watching the drops of water run down the window, his form and face illuminated by the light of the moon and the patrol lights. The kid turned to look at him, casting one side of his face into dark shadows, which matched the look in eyes.

“I hate bad dreams.”

His heartstrings are pulled again. 

_ Damn kid. _

Tony didn’t know what else to say besides, “Me too.”  At least it was the truth, the horrid truth.

A hand runs down his face, contents of the dreams still lingering _.  _

“You know, I’ve never been this close,” The kid said in quiet awe. “To the outside, the actual outside. Look how dark it is.”

The soft pattering sound of rain surrounded Tony as he rose to walk up behind Peter, gazing out into the darkness beyond the wall, where they were headed. He turned to light a candle on a small end table, illuminating the room. 

“Can’t be any worse out there.”

_ Oh you naive, naive child.  _

“Can it?”

Tony pushes his emotions down. “What on earth do the Avengers want with you? Because I have been thinking. Are you some big wig’s son? Is that how you’re important enough to warrant being held and smuggled by the Avengers? Otherwise, I’m at a damn loss, you look like every kid trying to prove themselves out there.”

Peter blinked up at him, looking young, conflicted, and a little hurt. “I-Its uh -- complicated.” 

The boy’s stuttering, quiet voice made Tony want to shrivel up. He’d meant to hurt him, he wants to make the boy angry at him and uncomfortable around him, so the kid would stop making clever quips that make him want to play along. He wants the adorably dorky comments to stop, anything that makes Tony want to hug him or equally repulsive to stop.

He almost scoffed at that thought, he hasn’t hugged anyone in years. Not since Rhodey left, not since Pepper so be couldn’t believe what was actually running through his head. 

He desperately wanted to know what made this boy important to the Avengers. There was absolutely no reason for the militia group to be harboring some child and needing him smuggled into the outside bad enough that they would readily give up much-needed weapons to make it happen if he wasn’t special in some way. Most likely though, the kid just had big wig Avengers parents or something.

“How complicated? Some big shot Avenger had an affair with another Avenger and now they're moving you to keep the peace.”

“N-No what--”

“I got it even better,” He smirked. “Some Avenger had an affair with a soldier and had you so you're their bargaining chip.”

“I’m not-”

“Then what is it, kid? Because you either got some hotshot parents or something on you to-”

“Just shut up!” Peter yelled. “Just--stop pushing. You're on some thin ice here  _ Tony.”  _

It was the first time Peter had said his name. And shit. Jesus Christ, he used it the same way Pepper did. The kid has the same sass she did. It was a playful rise she would turn to him huffing in annoyance more muttering  _ ‘You're on some thin ice, Tony.’ _

He could vividly picture the two of them messing around in their kitchen. Dinner finished and dishes trying to be cleaned. Tony would soak Pepper with the sink nosal, as she runs after him. She would laugh as he continued on making a mess they would clean up later.

That was their marriage in a nutshell, both trying to get rises out of each other—

_ “Tony- _

_ “Tony that doesn’t-” _

_ “Tony, I love you-” _

_ “You're gonna be a dad, Tony-”  _

He’d be reminded of Pepper every time this kid speaks. He _can't_ let that happen _.  _

“Mr. Stark,” He blurted, mind doing mental backflips. 

Peter scrunched his face up. 

_ Fucking cute. Stop, stop, can’t get attached.  _

It’s easier if he calls him Stark. He can’t think of Pepper, _he can’t._

“What’s that supposed-”

Tony swallowed and decided to roll with it. “Stark is my last name. You call me Mr. Stark.” His voice was hard with panic.

Peter just stood there confused. “You want me to…” He trailed off again laughing and not taking the panicking man seriously. The world goes to shit and you expect me to call you mister? What is this? Some respect your elders bullshit? We’re not at the Academy but shall I call you-”

“Kid,” He bit back. “Just-”

“You're a weird dude, To-”

“Jesus kid!” He boomed. “Just fucking listen!”

Tony’s voice boomed, unnecessarily loud and viciously angry that startled himself much less than the kid. Petter jumped back into his chair, eyes going wide with more shock than fear. His face paled, pink flush crawling up his neck. Timidly he slid his legs into the chair and under him. The kid curled in on himself, eyes focusing on his legs. 

“Mmhmm,” He nodded. “You got it.”

Grumbling, Tony sighed into his hands with a loud huff kicking himself for snapping like that. Damn kid, damn memories, damn emotions getting the best of him again. He wanted a drink, no, _he needed_ one if he was ever gonna get through this. Maria whirled into the room, slightly soaked from head to toe with a weird gitty grin.

“Sorry I took so long-” She began taking in Peter’s expression and the tension around the room. Her eyebrows furrowed at Tony, giving him a look. “Soldiers are fucking everywhere.”

The kid finally looked up from his spot shying away from Tony. “How’s Nat and Steve?”

“They’ll make it,” Maria answers eyes lighting up with a gleam he hasn’t seen in a while. “I saw the merchandise, it's a shit load. We gotta do this, it's going to be well worth it.”

_Was it? Was this actually ever gonna be worth it?_ _It was to her._

Tony only shrugged knowing damn well Maria would take Peter by herself if he didn’t go. A bottle of whiskey called his name at his shitty apartment but he couldn’t just leave them.

“Let’s go,” He nodded towards Peter who was already grabbing his bag. 

The boy demurely rose from his chair to collect his backpack he’d brought along. It was black with red detailing and covered with pins. From lightsabers, Darth Vader, R2-D2, to the Millenium Falcon his backpack had a Star Wars theme. However, with another glance, two X-Files pins with Scully and Mulder and a ‘trust no one’ pin came into view. He held back a scoff, wondering how someone his age especially now, knew about these things. TVs were not a luxury people could have nowadays. 

Peter didn’t spare another look his way, leading the way out of the room as Maria cocked her hip and stared. She raised a brow giving her friend the once over before leaving herself. The rain continued on as they caught up with Peter looking out the window in the foyer. Maria was up ahead eyes gazing for any moment.

Tony pulled her back slightly as the kid seemed distracted. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that they’re having us smuggle the kid?” His voice was low only loud enough for Maria. “Clearly, he has some importance to them. I just can’t wrap my head around them letting us take him. I mean they have the founders, their followers, it’s fucking weird.”

Maria only shrugged, eyes still focused on the outside. “Nat or Steve wanted to do this themselves. But shit hit the fan today, you saw what happened. The military wiped a good bit of them out.” She sighed at Tony’s stressed expression. “Clearly we weren’t their first choice or even their second. Those founders or whoever is left got their own shit to worry about. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“At this rate, let’s just hope there’s someone to pay us.”

She rolled her eyes, patting her friend’s shoulder. “Someone will be around, stop frowning old man.”

Maria is quick to push some random bookshelf to the side to reveal another strategically placed hole. Tony had to admit even with the decay of the building and few things littering the floor, this tunnel was by far the best one in the zone. It also was an added bonus that idiots didn’t throw their trash down the holes. 

Hell, this tunnel even had a working elevator that he had no idea how that here but he wasn’t complaining. After a few quick pulls, the elevator generator roared with life, taking them down into the tunnel. Gears click, the system slowly taking them down.

“Who’s waiting for us at the drop-off?”

“Nat mentioned a group of Avengers that traveled all the way from another city.” She eyed Peter. “You must be important huh? What’s the deal anyway? Some big-wigs son? 

Tony piqued interest hoping Peter would say something.

“Uh- no. Not really anyone special.”

“Right,” She replied. “Well that your own business to keep, I won’t press for more.”

The platform elevator shuddered to a halt at the ground, and they stepped off. Peter spoke again. “How long is this gonna take?”

They ducked and couched through a small tunnel lit by burning red lights leading them to the outside.

“If everything goes as planned, we should get to them in a few hours, possibly sunrise,” Maria told him. When the tunnel opened up, She turned to Peter and regarded him seriously. “Once we get out there, I need you to follow our lead and stay close. Danger is lurking at every corner, infected, soldiers, some asshole hunters, you name it, it’s out there. We want this to go as smoothly as possible ok?”

Peter nodded the affirmative. Then did that cute, face scrunching thing again. “Aye aye.”

_ Damn kid, stop being cute. _

“C’mon let's go.”

Tony climbed up the ladder to the exit outside and carefully lifted the piece of plywood atop it. He froze, eyes catching the silhouettes of soldiers through the crack. 

“Hold up,” He raises a hand. Patrol dead ahead.” He waited until the two had disappeared out of view before he climbed up and beckoned Peter and Maria to follow. “Alright, we’re good.” 

He recovered the tunnel entrance before setting off again, eyes drifting over to Peter. His eyes grew wide as the rain trickled down his face, which he lifted to the sky for a minute, expression full of wonder.

Tony watched him for a few more seconds, actually feeling the pain of remorse that he couldn’t let the kid enjoy it. “C’mon kid, let’s keep moving.”

Peter looked at him uncertainly. It was the first thing Tony said to him since he’d lost it on the poor kid. Maria moved slightly ahead of them, scoping things out like she did many times before, and the kid fell into step slightly behind Tony.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?”

It was said so gently, with so much apprehension that it made Tony pause. Mind begging him no to engage, but he just didn't have the heart answer him earnestly.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Is the outside always like this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Beautiful,” The kid sighed enjoying the rainfall and nature around him. 

“Well I mean,” Tony was at a loss for words for a few seconds. “I guess. Other than the infected or soldiers, the outside is a nice place.”

“Smells ten times better too.”

He actually let out a small laugh at that time unable to hold it back. “Yeah, it does.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s clear,” Maria gestured to the old eighteen-wheeler on its side. “Through here.”

He went through first, and was so focused on Peter and Maria’s resounding footsteps, making sure the kid was following closely not picking up the soldier's footsteps until it was too late. As he went to jump down out of the trailer, he was smacked in the face by a soldier’s machine gun, knocking him to the ground. Before he could process what was happening, the female soldier had turned her flashlight-adorned gun directly in Peter’s face, standing right behind him. The gun pointing at the kid awoke more protective instincts he didn’t realize he had. 

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

The woman’s voice was harsh under her helmet as she gestured for Maria and Peter to jump down as they lifted their hands up in surrender. Tony’s blood boiled for the second time tonight as he got to his feet and carefully raised his own hands. They barely made it outside, and they were already in the hands of soldiers. 

_ Such bullshit. _

A second soldier must have gone around the trailer and entered from the side, as he was behind the others, pistol aimed as they jumped down. 

“Move.”

“Turn around, on your knees.”

They did so, all staring at the scene unfolding. The woman instructed the man, “You scan them, I’ll call it in.”

“Alright,” The man huff. “I’m getting really tired of this shit. Hands on your heads.”

“This is Everhart, at sector twelve. Requesting pickup for three stragglers,” She spoke into her radio and waited a beat. “Understood.”

_ Shit, shit, more soldiers. _

Maria and him share a knowing look as he got scanned. He huffed still trying to figure a way out of this. The guy shuffled over to her, rain still pouring on them.

She waited for the scanner to go off, “Look the other way. We can make this worth your wild.” 

“Shut up.” The soldier snarled, before moving to Peter. He presses the scanner to his neck, poor kid shaking. “What’s ETA?”

“A couple of minutes.”

The kid was shaking, but instead of fear, he had a wild look in his eye. Tony had no time to figure out what Peter was planning before the kid whipped out his knife and jammed it into the soldier’s thigh just as the scanner beeped. The soldier stumbled back, yelling just as Peter jumped up grappling with the soldier. The soldier punched the boy and sent him to the ground. He then raised his pistol at the fallen kid.

Tony took his opportunity to tackle the man, some odd fatherly, protective instincts taking over as they both hit the ground in a heap. He saw the other soldier’s flashlight wash over him, and he braced himself for the string of bullets ripping into his back. But the shots he did end up hearing were from a pistol, Maria’s pistol. 

The first soldier was gone. As quick as he could, Tony grabbed for the soldier’s gun and shot the man in the temple. And it was finally done. 

Peter was breathing heavily with his head in his hands.“Oh fuck...Oh  _ fuck _ . I thought — Jesus, I thought we were just gonna hold them up or something.”

“Oh shit.” From behind him, Maria’s curse sounded equal parts astounded and angry as fuck. 

_ Something was up. _

“Stark, look at this.”

He turned and caught the scanner she threw him, looked down at the screen. He almost drops it, eyes bugging out at what the scanner depicted. He slowly raised his eyes to Maria, who looked grim but more importantly pissed.

“They-“ He checks the scanner one more time, no believing what he saw. “Nat set us up?”

Without waiting for an answer, he rounded on Peter. Peter, who hated bad dreams and loved the outside and somehow liked Star Wars, X-files, and a bunch of old shit he shouldn't know. Peter, who looked adorable when he scrunched his face up. The kid, who he'd known for three hours and who was already warming up on him. 

Peter... _ Who was infected. _

Tony pushed down an emotion that felt a little too much like grief and rasped out, “Why the hell are we smuggling an infected kid?”


	4. Fear Lurks Beneath it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a prolonged silence, the rain only to filling the void. Maria's eyes narrowed, pissed off sighs coming from her nose. Tony’s bitter gaze bore into Peter, who was cowering against a large crate across from the body of the male soldier. His eyes were wide with fear and desperation; a perfect image of a child-like innocence on display. 
> 
> “I-I’m not infected.”
> 
> Tony scoffed nastily, fury ruling him. “No? And this is just lying, is that it?" He tosses the reader in Peter's direction watching the damn thing splash in the mud. His hand trembles, shaky disposition coming to the forefront. "Fuck."
> 
> Infected, infected. Of course, the kid was infected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of death, gore, blood, guns, and alcohol

There was a prolonged silence, the rain only to filling the void. Maria's eyes narrowed, pissed off sighs coming from her nose. Tony’s bitter gaze bore into Peter, who was cowering against a large crate across from the body of the male soldier. His eyes were wide with fear and desperation; a perfect image of a child-like innocence on display. 

“I-I’m not infected.”

Tony scoffed nastily, fury ruling him.  “No? And this is just lying, is that it?" He tosses the reader in Peter's direction watching the damn thing splash in the mud. His hand trembles, shaky disposition coming to the forefront. "Fuck."

_ Infected, infected.  _ _Of course, the kid was infected._

The kid flinches at the action, panic gaze showcasing his reeling thoughts. His hands then extended, the kid's half-ass attempt of gesturing through the air trying to calm their rising nerves. 

“I can explain.”

“Well, then you better explain fast,” Maria advanced on the boy, her gun poised in a threatening manner. 

Her menacing glare sends the message, letting the panicked boy know she could send a bullet into him with a twitch of her hand. Peter swallows, gaze on the pistol.

_ He’s infected, he’s infected.  _

_ He needs to stop trying to protect this damn kid.  _

“Look at this!” Peter jerks up the sleeve of his black striped shirt to reveal a nasty bite to his forearm.

The bite was similar to a crescent moon, an ugly infected one. Though slightly paler than the bites he’d seen, Tony couldn’t tear his eyes from the deep marks of infected teeth. A few blisters form around his bite, all matching the same pinkish-red color. The bite looked different but that didn’t change anything.

Tony tore himself away, a sick pit growing in his stomach. “I don’t care how you got infected.”

_ Oh God, yes he did, who was he kidding.  _

He wanted to know why this damn kid was infected. Why didn’t someone look out for him? Why was he stuck with him? Tony growled and turned away, waving his hand in the boy's direction, unable to look at him. He couldn’t look at the one person starting to grow onto the shortlist of people he cared about. Any hope coming from his kid, anything good he possessed would soon be snuffed out. Either by Maria’s bullet or the cordyceps fungus currently growing behind those wide brown eyes.

_ Those innocent-  _

Peter pulls at his hair, distressed noise escaping past his lips. The rain matted his curls against his forehead, his eyes grew glassy panic coming from every breath.  “It’s three weeks old!”

Maria shifts her weight onto the back of her heels, she sighs anger boiling. “Cut the bullshit. Everyone turns within two days.”

“It’s three weeks, I swear!”

“Kid stop-“

“I promise I’m not lying, it’s  _ three fucking weeks _ .”

_ Oh, he promises, of course, he does.  _

_ T his kid was so young, so damn innocent.  _

_ Push it under, push it under, he doesn’t need these emotions.  _

The rain continues on pouring down as muddy puddles surrounded them. Peter’s jeans were covered in mud, panic eyes still placed on Hill’s gun.

Peter collected himself. “Why— Why would they set you up? Why would Nat or even Steve show you that merchandise if they weren’t serious? What’s there to gain?”

The glance he and Hill share is contemplative because that was the question of the hour. Why would they lie? What would they gain from setting them up? Nothing made sense, nothing like this should be happening.

_ “Tones-“ _ Pepper’s voice floods his head.  _ “Tony, you have to give people a chance-“ _

_ No, no no— he can’t let— _

_ “Give them—give him a chance.” _

His fingers form a tight fist, knuckles turning white. “I’m not buying it.” 

Peter looked slightly hurt, eyes breaking contact with a heavy sigh. _Good, that’s right, hate his guts, make things easier._ Tony didn’t have time to contemplate anymore, not after the lights and the sound of an engine running interrupted their conversation. He turned, eyes widening as he saw a military Humvee, no doubt full of soldiers. Its headlights broke through the half decaying remains of some building still trying to hold on, the vehicle gunning towards them.

“Oh, shit.” Maria’s gaze darting to him, her own form of curses escaping from her mouth. “Run,  _ fuck, run!” _

He didn’t let himself focus on Peter. His brain was already forcing his heart to let the boy go. His brain had always been smarter than his heart, he couldn’t listen to Pepper, she wasn’t here. Tony starts booking it for the shadows, Humvee getting closer.

Maria snaps at Peter, her own panic breaking through. “Come on kid,” He turns around to see his friend yank the poor boy upward by his backpack. Her eyes had a wild fury in them. “Go, go,  _ move!” _

Tony turned back around and then he heard both pair’s footsteps running behind him. _They needed to get out of here_. Two soldiers were dead, there was no way these soldiers would let them go now. They were sitting ducks, just two people, and an infected kid with a low amount of firepower. 

_ Shit, shit, shit.  _

They jump down an eroded hillside into a man-made hole booking it to some form of cover. They crouched under a metal beam just as the soldiers pulled up headlights lighting up the scene. Car doors open and slam, feet hitting the ground just as they cleared the beam. They were still in the open, small types of covers littered here and there. Rain and mud covered all of them, panic eyes all searching for an easy route out, that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“Holy shit _ —” _

“I got two dead uniforms. I repeat. I got two casualties in Sector Twelve. Requesting immediate backup.”

Shit, this wasn’t good at all. More soldiers meant they were outnumbered and they weren’t going to be dragged by into the zone anymore. Alarms started to blare to their right, coming from the large wall blocking the zone from the outside. Lights began to move from the tops, sniper nests, and lookouts trying to spot the criminals. 

The group made their way across the slippery terrain, mud, and jagged rocks creating an unlevel ground with other forms of debris. Metals, crates, half-standing buildings, and nature took over the grounds; level playing field long gone as they tried to quickly get the hell out of here. 

Nearly slipping on a patch of mud, Tony cursed as another Humvee comes speeding out of the gates. More lights lighting up the dim grounds, all shining in different directions. They moved forward, all finding cover with a wooden crate. Their guns were drawn except for Peter who was still holding the stupid knife that got him in this mess, to begin with. 

Maria had a level head about this, collecting her pissed off demeanor. “Follow me okay?” She whispers to Peter. “When I give you the signal, we run.”

Peter on the other hand, still had his panicked expression. “Singal. Run. Got it.”

They waited a few more moments, lights shifting away to give the group a small window to run to another cover. They jumped into another hole, some sort of man-made rock slide filled with muddy water. Lights flash by, Humvee lurking in the distance. Water seeped into Tony’s boots, cold liquid soaking his socks. He cursed once more, feeling the heat of the soldiers lurking everywhere. 

“Stay away from the lights,” Tony hissed at Peter. “The last thing we need is you fucking it up.”

Maria’s head snaps to him, shooting him a  _ ‘are you serious look’ _ as the kid just nods. He cringed a bit, mentally facepalming at his outburst. His brain was in panic mode, normalish filter not working at his moment. So yeah, his next few sentences are probably going to come out shitty. 

They stumble through a large puddle, just missing another light as his heart pumped loudly in his chest. The damn alarm continued on headache from earlier in the day coming back with a force. Tony huffs, wishing for a bottle of whiskey right about now. This was not how he expected his day to go, he just wanted his guns that's it. Not some infected kid bullshit. 

Together, they launch over a few rusted barrels heads trying to remind low and unseen. “Hold up,” Tony mutters halting the kid. A Humvee drives over the poorly put together and rusting bridge and parks. _Shit._ “Get ready for another sprint.”

They booked it towards an open drainage pipe, breathing heavily but making no stops. They needed to keep moving. 

“Goddamnit, their everywhere,” Maria hisses still keeping her voice low as they exited the pipe. “Soldiers right there!”

A few soldiers on foot shined their lights around, gun drawn and ready to fire at a moment's notice. The alarms still echoed as Tony worried about a chance of the infected coming closer, lurking in the shadows because of the damn sound.

“They must’ve gotten through. Check the trenches!”

_ Fuck, they were in the trenches.  _

All eyes were focused on the trenches, all three of them practically crawling in the damn mud trying not to be seen. Peter was in between them, Maria following behind to make sure the kid was protected. She nudged him to crawl a bit faster, pointing to the soldier looming over them. The trenches still gave them cover, all they had to do was play it right and stick to the areas where vines and cliff sides overhung. 

They crouch through another pipe, exit leading under an old bypass with water flowing up to their ankles. Climbing up, they stumble upon the remains of a house litter with a horde of soldiers muttering to themselves.

“Shit,” He curses. “They’re everywhere.”

“Grab some cover,” Maria points to a brick wall a couple of feet away. “We can take on one at a time if we’re smart about this.”

Tony nods following her instructions as they all file around some crumbling brick wall. A few soldiers walk by, two breaking off leaving one by himself. He takes the lead on this one waiting for the right moment when the guy looks away. He’s quick, arms wrapping around the man’s throat squeezing the air out him until he passes out. They wait a few seconds hiding the soldier before going to their cover. They keep their routine going from the next two until a damn soldier sees Tony in the act.

Maria is quick to pounce, shiving him in the neck before the man could speak to his companions. The body drops dead, blood falling down the guy's neck. She heaves wiping her bloody knife, eyes narrowed as she kicked the corpsed. After Hill spit on the soldier, some pent up rage slipping out of her, they duck into an underground tunnel. Yellow caution tape sits there waiting for them, marking a much-needed exit. 

“Do you think they’ll follow us down here?” Peter asked almost slipping on a rock.

Tony walks forward not wanting to dwell on the lurking soldiers behind them. “We’re not sticking around to find out.”

Finally able to catch their breaths, they search for any leftover supplies. They did so, without speaking a word on the elephant in the room all plaguing their minds. _Or well the elephant in the rundown abandoned concrete tunnel_. The soldiers were still around they couldn’t stay here forever, even if the bombshells of all bombshells dropped on them. They follow the extended tunnel, trucking through waist-deep water as they watched the Humvees drive over them.

“Load them up! We’re being called back to the wall!”

Tony finally lets out a sigh of relief, panic not gripping his chest so tightly. When they finally trekked their way to a tunnel gate, Maria seemed like she was done waiting. However, the things she utter were not what he expected her to say. 

She gripped Peter by the shoulders as he sat on the ground. “Look, Kid. What was the plan?” Maria rubs mud off her hands and onto her pant leg. “Let’s say that we deliver you to the Avengers, what then?”

Peter seemed flustered by the questioning and the events before. “Nat-- Steve-- One of them said that this group has their own little quarantine zone.” He takes another breath. “They had doctors there, doctors still trying to find a cure. 

Tony scoffed with his entire body as he scanned the area for signs of patrol, half-listening to the ridiculous conversation. “Yeah, we’ve heard that before, huh, Hill?”

Peter flinched at the venom in Tony’s voice but continued when Maria urged him after giving her friend a glare. “And that…” He seemed reluctant. He sighed, then finished with “Whatever happened to me is the key to finding a vaccine.”

Tony raised his eyes to the sky as if asking the universe, God, whoever, was hearing the same shit he was. “Oh, Jesus. This bullshit again.”

Peter glared in annoyance. “It’s what  _ they _ said

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, I’m sure they did. They love filling up everyone’s heads with fancy tales of freedom and other shit.”

The kid shot up, in a fit of anger that Tony hadn’t yet witnessed. “Hey, fuck you, dude, _I didn’t ask for this!”_

He stared at the kid matching the same intensity in his eyes, he shoves his chest back lightly tone like venom. “Me neither.” Tony brushes him off after that directing focusing on Maria. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

Hill’s grew soft, curiosity blooming behind her eyes. She takes one look at Peter and then to Tony. “What if it’s true?”

Tony stepped back as if the force of her own idiotic comment was a physical barrier. “I can’t believe--Maria you're not serious-”

“ _ What if, Tony _ ?” This time she stepped into his space, a rare sight of hope blooming in her eyes. “I mean we’ve come this far, why don’t we just finish it?”

He gripped her bicep and dragged her further from Peter. “Do I need to remind you of what the fuck is out there?”

The shit they have seen, the shit they have been through left a sour taste in his mouth. There was an added danger to his world now, people and freaks evolving to something he never would have expected. The kid should never have to experience his world let alone the things that happened to today. Maria glanced back at Peter, whose innocent brown eyes were watching them with apprehension. Her gaze fell back to Tony, a knowing look that could see through his walls. It was like she’d read his mind, her eyes staring at the side of his pack, ultrasound still safely tucked away.

“I get it, always have.”

Not really, not when she hasn’t been so close to becoming a father only to have it ripped away. Maria huffs away, Peter lingering for a few more seconds before following. The rain continued on as Tony tilted his head up a sighed. He could practically hear Pepper this time. A stray tear fell, mixing in with the rain long forgotten. He drew a shaky breath, trudging forward. 

________

Tony trailed behind them by a few steps. 

“This way,” Maria points up to a dirty sign. “If we cut through downtown, we’ll be able to hit the capitol building by sunrise.” 

“We hope,” He mutters to himself.

The stormy summer air was thick, heavy as the rain poured on. The storm added to the extensive flooding, the terrain of broken freeways, and skyscraper debris all more treacherous. After not breaking their necks, they stumble into a flat spot. Where they stood, the buildings looked resembled decaying office spaces as Peter's eyes gazed up doing that marveling thing again. 

“Oh shit...This is what these buildings look like up close. I’ve seen a photo here and there but damn they’re so tall.”

The kid continued to marvel at the buildings as the stop raged on. Thunder boomed followed by lightning. They passed a leaning skyscraper, vines slowly creeping up halfway and into broken windows. 

“What happened here?”

“The military,” Maria began. “They bombed the hell out of surrounding areas to the quarantine zones. They wanted to kill as many of the freaks infected as possible.”

Tony remembered how loud the bombs had been. For hours and hours, they’d set them off, destroying the once beautiful city. No one had slept that night - all still realizing that the world and the people they knew were long gone. Things were changing, the world evolving in some sick twisted way.

“It worked,” She drew him out of his daze. “At least for a little while.”

Lightning and thunder boomed, lighting up the sky once more. The screeches of infected could be heard under the storm, echoing off the crumbling buildings. 

Peter’s marveling ended, breath hitching. “Guys, what the hell was that?”

Both of them tensed but still trekked upward, they heard enough screeches to know what that meant. 

“It sounded pretty far away, Pete,” Maria tried to assure the kid. “I think we’re fine.”

“Yeah but-” The kid wasn’t convinced. “Are we safe?”

Tony scoffed loudly, of course, they weren’t safe. They were on the outskirts of the quarantine zone, the outskirts where the infected loved because it was the closest they could get to people. The basic smell of people drove them crazy, almost like sharks with blood. 

Hill shoots him a warning glare. “For now, just keep moving.”

They reached a deep drop off that they had no hope of crossing. They could just barely see the golden-domed top of the capitol building in the distance.

“Damn, that’s quite a drop.”

“Eh,” Tony looked down growing uneasy, it was pretty far down. “It’s not that bad. Hey, kid why don’t you jump to that ledge and-”

“I’m not that stupid, why don’t you jump first?” Peter snapped back. “Or are your old man joints too fragile to make it?’

“Listen here you little-”

“Boys,” Maria hissed. “Enough just find a way around.”

Tony huffed off ahead leaving Hill to answer all types of questions about this downtown area. This kid didn’t have a stop button, he never shut up. They were forced to cut into a large office building, that at least got them out of the relentless rain and passed a nice family of rats. The entire building was tilted drastically to the side; desks, chairs, filing cabinets, and everything in between were all falling onto each other in giant heavy heaps. The only good part about this part was the fact that they were out of rain except for the few areas that rain fell through. 

They turned a corner eyes landing on the dead soldier in the first hallway. Not even a hundred feet inside and they’re already finding dead bodies. _Way to pick the unlucky building, universe._ Everyone was on edge after that, eyes numbly staring at the corpse with its insides missing. 

“He’s been ripped apart,” Peter mumbles grimly. “They ripped him to pieces.”

“Yeah…”

Maria kneeled down taking a look at the blood. “The body is pretty fresh too.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Might be,” She answered. “Let’s not stick around.”

The building shifts as they climb the stairway, echoes of a tilting building letting the bombings and decay get to it. They barely make it thirty or forty feet before they find another body, slumped down and bloody as it leaned against the wall. 

It’s a soldier or the remains of one.

Same as before blood covered and unmoving. Only this one has a clipboard attached to him, blood-covered, still readable, and pretty recent.

**M-254e FIELD OPERATIONS LOG**

Date of Action: 7/2033 

O.I.C: Rand

Area of Operations:

18:08 Arrived Grid 2438A. Negative Contact at LZ. Moving patrol west towards the city center.

21:00 Negative Contact

22:18 Negative  _ FUCKING  _ contact

23:12 Pvt. Cage reports visual/sound contact Stage-2 Cordyceps infected near collapsed office building. Moving to investigate.

23:40 Multiple infected contacts. Pvts Temple, Cage, Murdock KIA

The next not is scrawled and panicked, not as neat

OVERRUN FELL BACK TO BUILDING INTERIOR--AWAITING EVAC

Tony read the last line, drawing in a shaky breath. “Looks like these guys died waiting for backup.”

The infected could, and most likely, be here hiding in the shadows. And by the looks of it, it was enough to kill an entire army patrol. Just fucking great, another shitshow to deal with. The building creaked again, metal echoing as they pressed forward. They glanced around eyes darting looking for any sign of the infected. 

All it took to solidify that point was another body only this time an infected one. Its body was stuck against the wall, spores growing from its form, and up the door. Its face was long gone, head opening up like a flower blooming, except for you know, teeth and bloody fluids. 

“Goddamnit, a fucking clicker.”

The clicker had died on a doorway, fungus moving from its body onto the door and the surrounding wall. Tony then gripped the thing’s shoulders and ripped it from the door.

Peter walks up beside him and stares at the grotesque sight. “Geez what—“ He pauses for a second as Tony nearly halfway yanking the damn this off. “What’s wrong with its face?”

“It’s way years of infection will do to you,” Maria responds taking in the sight as well. “The damn infection just grow out of them, fungus taking over the face. It’s body turning into a still plant.”

“So they’re just blind at this point?”

“Sort of,” She shrugs. “It depends on the stages of the infection but in this case, they mostly use sound to see.”

Tony’s working on clearing the fungus away eyes briefly catching that damn kid scrunching his face again. 

“Like bats? 

“Like bats. If you hear one-clicking, you gotta hide otherwise they’ll spot you.”

He forced it open with a few good hits with his shoulder, kicking the body away. God, he hated these things, growing and pasting its body blocking the damn exit. The only good part was the fact that this freak wasn’t moving but that didn’t mean they were out of the woods yet. 

He turned and gestured to his group. “If you two are done talking about bats-“

They both glare at him. 

“It’s better he asks about them now than he asks when we’re in the thick of things.”

“Well, there’s much more to this Batcave than this one probably.”

Peter’s face scrunched up again. “Batcave?”

“You know Batman’s super-secret hideout?”

“What’s a Batman?”

Tony completely ignored his previous task. “How do you know about Star Wars but not-“

Maria cleared her throat. “Tony, you can give Peter a pop culture lesson later when we’re you know not inside a leaning building.”

The kid snickered as he fought back a smile, the boy was growing on him and he hated it. Biting his tongue, he pressed forward into the next room. More turned over desks appeared, a mess of file cabinets rusting and littering its mess of papers onto the floor. With a few more steps into the room, they heard the screech of metal and the groan of support beams.

Peter’s breathing went erratic, calm and joyful demeanor leaving. Maria was quick to reassure him quietly, the kid warming up to her as they continued walking.

“The whole building sounds like it's about to fall apart,” Tony noted as the creaking continued. “Damn thing had enough bomb drops that I’m surprised it’s still up. It’s already on a thirty-degree angle, I wouldn’t be surprised if it leaned some more.”

He received more glares, but the kid was more scared than anything. After another quick jaunt through office spaces and crawling under the crumbling walls, the beams of the building shifted again. A few deals fell to the leaning side, tattered books sliding with it.

Peter was still on edge. “Yup, totally normal, totally normal for a building to do that.”

Tony attempted to open the next door, shoulder leaning against the wood but to no avail. Maria came up beside him, already helping to bust the damn door open. Using both of their strengths to open, it screeched as they hit it repeatedly. Peter winced drawing a breath as the door finally did pop open. With his full weight against the frame, his body went flying forward with his momentum.

Before he could even steady himself, Maria screamed, “Tony!”

He turned quickly, eyes going wide once he got a full view of the clicker racing towards him. It’s growling form slammed into him, throwing both of them to the ground. The freak hovering above was wearing a collared shirt, most likely someone who would have worked here before they got turned. It’s fungus head barreled down, the freak’s hungry frenzy keeping Tony on the ground. It screeched, clicking and jerking violently as the pair struggled.

He gripped the clicker around the neck, fighting with it for about five seconds before Maria slammed her boot into it. Knocking it away, she shot it several times in its overgrown head until it laid still and lifeless. Tony rolled to his feet breathing erratically with Maria. They shared a look, blood rushing to his ears as his hand trembled.

_ Christ. His heart was getting too old for the shit like that.  _

“Thanks—“ was the only word he could barely get out.

“You alright, To—Mr.Stark?” Peter asked, sounding scared and confused.

“Yeah,” He heaved. “It’s nothing.”

Maria turned to them, her eyes blank, breathing still a bit heightened. “Let’s search for supplies, there still might be something around. Just keep an eye out ok?”

The boys nodded as they traveled into the next room, a break room. It wasn’t anything too new: same decor and decay throughout. Peter was buzzing around him, almost hovering.

“Shit, that was intense!” He exclaimed. “I mean that thing came out of nowhere!”

“Yeah,” Tony shivered at the thought of the creature, the pure terror he felt when it caught him off guard. He knew that wasn’t the last of them. “It was.”

They searched the break from top to bottom. Peter opened a few cabinets, buzzing form moving over to one of the broken drink dispenser machines. He kicked it, hands on his hips with a hopeful look. 

“Damnit,” He sighed. “I really wanted to try the red can.”

Maria, now almost back to normal, raised a brow. “Red can? Oh, you mean Coke?”

“They put drugs in a drink?”

“Kid—“ Tony sighed nearly bursting out into laughter. He bit the inside of his cheek as Maria quietly chuckled. “No, they did not. It’s Coca-Cola but everyone called it Coke. Quite tasty but you won’t find any of that here or anywhere. Everyone stopped making anything like that after everything went to shit.”

The kid looked a bit crestfallen. “Bummer.”

“Indeed.”

Soda, candy, chips, chocolate, cupcakes, all the “insignificant” stuff. Those things were rare, either all eaten by travelers or long expired. But damn what he wouldn’t give to have Pepper’s chocolate chips one more time.

“Soda aside,” She chimed back in again. “You're really missing out on candy. What I wouldn’t do for some M&M’s right now.”

“The peanut ones were better.”

Hill gasped dramatically. “Oh, you fiend!”

“I’m the fiend?” He questioned. “If anything you’re the weirdo who doesn’t like nuts and chocolate.”

“Says the man that spends his extra time off shaving his beard into a goatee.”

Peter snorted loudly after that, giggling to himself. He gave Maria a high five still unable to contain his fit of chuckles. Tony scoffed at them, returning to his empty cabinet to hide a growing smile. He scratches his stubble, shaking his head as a fond smile tugged at his lips.

_ Maybe this wasn’t so bad. _

They all stayed like that, joking around in quiet voices while navigating through the next few rooms. The building creaked once more as they walked into a new part of the building. Rain poured from one section, vines covering most of its walls but the most unsettling part was the soldier’s body draped from a ledge. It’s torso impaled, the body just dangling off the side like a rag doll.

The jokes die off after that.

Tony boosted Maria up, who in turn lifted Peter up before offering a hand to him. As soon as they all had their feet firmly on the ground, frantic clicking echoed along the walls.

“Clickers?” Peter whipped his head in their direction growing pale. 

There wasn’t any time to answer as Tony grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him down behind a desk just as the clicker peeled into the room. Tiny noises escape from its mouth as it stumbles on by. Maria was in front of them, having gotten there first. They all stayed incredibly still as the clicker roamed the room.

Tony still held onto Peter, protective nature taking over once more. He didn’t think too much about it, he couldn’t dwell on his own emotions right now. The clicker came closer, infected hands sliding into the table as he practically wrapped his arms around the kid’s chest and brought him closer to the floor.

They all watched it move and click, once a woman now a monster with no face only fungus. It let out a few more clicks, stumbling away looking for food. Peter gave a confused look before slowly sitting up from Tony. His arm still remained around the kid, still crouched and slightly panicked.

When the clicker turned its back to them, Maria whipped her hand out and grabbed an old glass beer bottle. Tossing it in the opposite direction, the clicker screeched at the sound and advanced in its direction. 

Taking their opportunity, the group moved crouching behind the desks to stay hidden. Tony gestured them in one direction as he flanked the clicker; metal pipe in hand and ready to strike. He slowly creeps up, striking the damn monster until it stopped breathing. Blood splatters across the floor, as Peter stuck by Maria who pointed to some scaffolding leading up to the neck floor. 

Breathing heavily, Tony made sure Peter was up before he was. The kid was way less likely to survive the clicker spotting him than he was. Another soldier’s body sat dead in front of them, less eaten than the others but still a haunting sight.

Once they were safe, Maria turned to the kid. “You alright, Pete?”

“Mmhmm,” He nodded tightly. 

They continued making their way through, only stopping when the stairwell on level five was blocked by a caved-in ceiling. They glanced around only spotting one thing, the scaffolding outside the window. The damn thing was the only way through, the only way they could get out of this place.

“Should we-” Peter tried to offer before Maria just hopped on the damn thing. 

It shook, creaking from age. “Just uh don’t look down.”

“Are you crazy?” The kid hissed looking at Tony with wide eyes. 

“C’mon kid we gotta move.”

In which they pressed on stupidly jaunting over a twenty-year-old, bomb-weakened window scaffolding. They took in the brief sight of the bombed and decaying city. 

Nature took over and it won. 

Everything shook in the wind, rain pouring on them as they tried to carefully make it to an open window. They slide around the edge just making it into a broken window finally able to breathe once more. However, not even a few steps in they realized that they walked into another nightmare. Another dead soldier, same sight as before but this time left a free revolver for the taking.

They walked further into the room with torn out walls as the room below them echoed with growls, gurgles, and screeches. 

_ Of fucking course. _

“Fuck Runners,” Maria huffed as the clicks and growls grew louder.

They shared a look, Peter almost inching back where they came from trying to hold a brave face. The kid didn’t need to deal with runners, he just needed to get out of this damn place 

“Let me check it out,” He sighed. “Stay with the kid.” 

Tony felt their eyes on him until he jumped down into the infected room. There were five runners in total, one pretty easy to take out with his shiv but the others posed a challenge. He managed to get a second one, crouched form waiting until the main group left one open to make his move. It was a quick strangle, arms yanking its neck until he heard a snap. He heaved, finding another place to hide.

He remained hidden trying to work out how he’ll be able to take them all. Sure, he had Hill up above but it was better for the kid’s sake to stay with him. These weren’t clickers, they were runners — _a big difference._ Unlike clickers, these assholes stumbled around with no place to go except for their next meal. One sound, one runner spotting him would be game over, mealtime. 

Runners could see him, they could see what figures were in the room. Sound wasn’t going to work this time and he needed to save ammo. He pressed onward towards the group, heart pounding his chest as he shifted from walls and desks as the infected shifted around. Their growls were much deeper, more painful than clickers. Freshly turned monsters still changing into the fungus freaks. 

Tony spotted the third one shuffling into an empty room, he took that chance rushing forward with a second shiv. Slowly he got the jump, hand jamming to shiv into the runner muffling the kill as he marked off another kill. A sudden clicking drew his attention, it wasn’t just a group of runners there was a clicker in the mix too. Just as he started to put his plan into motion, another runner came from behind a wall hiding all this time. Tony cursed watching all three huddle together and refusing to break apart. 

Stealth wasn’t going to work for this one, he had to put the revolver to good use. Gun drawn, he aimed for the clicker knowing to take it out first. A clicker was stronger and could easily pin him down. With his bloody metal pipe at the ready, one of the damn runners came charging at him.

Tony jumped up and aimed his shit into the clicker’s head. First thing first, he had to take down the clicker otherwise he’d be screwed. He continued laying two more shots into the stumbling freak, finally making an impact. With a screech, blood spattered as the freak’s body fell to the group with a thump. The other runners screamed and raced eyeing him with wild hungry all focused on their next meal.

In the nick of time, he managed to take a few steps back as the first runner reached him. The infected tried to grab him, growling with a fury before Tony sent a pipe to its face. 

He huffed, panic still slightly gripping his lungs. He stumbled back some more, trying to create some distance as he watched the runner he hit looked around daze. The pipe manage to get a pretty good hit but he could admire his handy work as another freak came at him. Whacking the second runner, he dealt a brutal head slam that sent brain matter flying. The dazed one finally got back up but barely got to its feet before Tony dealt a few more blows. The last one falls lifeless, blood boiling on the dirty ground of broken concrete. He heaved, bloody pipe still in his hand as he cleaned it off. 

“Alright,” He said, catching his breath. “Come on down.”

Maria whistled as they came up to him. “I’m impressed, Tony.” She teased.

He responded with a pssh sound, playful shoving her making sure to rub a bit of blood on her arm. Hill made a disgusted face, filling him off as Tony laughed. 

“Let’s get a move on.” 

Pressing on, they made their way through rooms all while trying to get old doors to open. Half of them were jammed while others had heavy ass objects in front of them. Especially with the last push, Tony knew his body was going to be aching later.

After pulling a rather heavy metal filing cart out of the way, he huffed at Maria’s assumed face. “See? We’re doing alright.”

“Uh-huh.”

Walking downstairs, they made their way through collapsed floors and tilted rooms. When they made it to a flatter surface, it was much darker here and quite damp. Animals and other wildlife echoed throughout, life still somehow living in his hellhole. The whole bottom half seems to be mostly nature at this point, pavement and flooring all taken over by grass and foliage.

“You know I was thinking--” Maria spoke again.

“If you comment on my choice of M&M’s one more-”

“Wasn’t what I was thinking about but hey your choice sucks ass.”

He rolls his eyes. “So you told me.”

“But seriously,” She laughed walking behind him. “After we get back, we should take it easy. Kick back and relax for a little while.”

“ _ You,  _ Maria Hill _ , _ wanna take it easy?”

“You're the one always going on about laying low.”

“And you always brushed me off, even when I offered my good wine.”

“Well jackass, hate to break it to you but the wine you have is disgusting. Besides, I think we earned a break, two friends drinking till their heart's content.”

“We already do that.”

“Alright wise-ass, my point is we can take a damn chill pill on supply runs for a while and I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t sass me, old man.”

Tony laughed as they continued downward and into a damper territory. Frogs were everywhere, marsh-like areas growing by the minute. They stumbled through a bit more, finally going down a large hole leading into the subway. Another body came into view, bloody handprints dragging along the titles

Maria shined her light on the body that wasn’t a soldier. “Look at his sleeve, Avengers..”

He did and saw the band around the dead man’s upper bicep. It was a black band with a red  _ A _ under him, a Molotov sat ready to be thrown. Besides that was two notes with blue ink.

**ORDERS:** Patrol the rendezvous area. Ensure no military presence before moving the boy to the next safe house. Make sure the boy is well fed and in good health. His safety is of the utmost importance.

_ Huh, they must have been originally tasked with bringing Peter. Guess that didn’t end well. _

“Damn these guys aren’t doing so well in or out of the city.” Peter shifted his feet looking at the body then to Tony. “Let’s just hope someone is actually alive to meet us at the drop-off.”

“I’m sure there will be.”

“Hopefully,” He muttered.

He pockets the other note finally taking a look at the other note realizing that it was a stray military pamphlet.

**STAGES OF INFECTION**

Stage 1 [RUNNER -- DO NOT LET THEM SWARM YOU]

  * Cordyceps has taken over the victim's motor functions. Fast and agile. Stage 1 infected usually travel in packs. Fast and agile. 



Stage 2 [STALKER]

  * ...Hides and ambushes victims...check your surroundings.



Stage 3 [CLICKER -- CAN’T SEE]

  * Completely blind, acute hearing. Uses echolocation to seek out prey. Keep your distance! Stage 3 infected are known for their ferocious attacks and are extremely lethal.



Stage 4 [B--]

The last part is worn, faded letters unreadable. Tony shrugs it off handing the flyer to Peter.

“There you go kid, Stages of Infections,” He smirks. “Read up, test in five.”

Peter furrowed his brows scanning over the document. “What- I’m not taking a test.” That earns a laugh from Maria. “Besides the last one is all faded.” 

“Oh quit your pouting,” He chuckles. “Still those are the basics so I suggest you keep it on you.”

The kid nodded pocketing the flyer. “Right.” 

The group walks barely tweet feet from this body before stumbling onto another. This time blood pools around him, body slumped as it leaned against a railing. Beside him was a map of the city with the capitol building highlighted, below the circle something in black pen was written.

**Meet up with second Avengers team at Capitol Building**

**BOY**

**5’7 (?)**

**15 years old**

**Brown hair**

“They’re from the quarantine zone,” Tony sighed. “I guess they were supposed to meet with another team.”

“See? Not our guys, we’re fine.” 

Tony didn’t answer this time wondering if there would be anyone left. 

“Hate to dampen the mood but-” Peter’s voice was so soft it was a whisper. He was crouched in front of an opening in the wall that they needed to get through. He pointed eyes still so innocent and endearing. “But dead Avengers aren't the main issue right now.”

They moved to him and looked through the opening. Tony held back a curse. The room ahead was crawling with clickers, a shit ton of clickers. 

_ Yeah. They’re fucked. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos <3


	5. Dumb Luck and Close Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You see them?” He muttered to Maria behind a turned over vending machine.
> 
> “God, we’re almost out,” She huffed, scanning their surroundings once more. “Ok Tony, you take point. I’ll watch the rear. And Peter, no matter what you stay right on his heels.”
> 
> “Got it,” He breathed nervously. 
> 
> “Stay sharp.”
> 
> “I got it,” He muttered itching away from their hiding spot.
> 
> They had no idea what was lurking in the darkness, they had to play this right. In the area, there were about four to five clickers and the possibility of a runner or two. The group continued forward, trying to gain some ground without detection. One runner had its face buried in the stomach of some poor dead bastard. By itself, it was less of a problem but the main issue was just across the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of gore, death, blood, guns, and alcohol

Ok well, they weren’t  _ that _ screwed per se, but that didn’t mean things could go horribly wrong. They could still get eaten to tiny shreds. 

So yeah, they were sorta screwed. 

“You see them?” He muttered to Maria behind a turned over vending machine.

“God, we’re almost out,” She huffed, scanning their surroundings once more. “Ok Tony, you take point. I’ll watch the rear. And Peter, no matter what you stay right on his heels.”

“Got it,” He breathed nervously. 

“Stay sharp.”

“I got it,” He muttered itching away from their hiding spot.

They had no idea what was lurking in the darkness, they had to play this right. In the area, there were about four to five clickers and the possibility of a runner or two. The group continued forward, trying to gain some ground without detection. One runner had its face buried in the stomach of some poor dead bastard. By itself, it was less of a problem but the main issue was just across the room. 

Together clickers and runners were the worst mixes of the bunch. Runners, still in the first stages of infection, had excellent hearing and sight. As for clickers, you could walk right in front of a distracted one and they wouldn’t notice if you were quiet. Although runners were tricky, they were easier to kill but harder to evade. Just one sound or screech in alarm from them and the clickers would be on the group in seconds. 

The group managed to get into some form of a small shop. All the supplies were gone, stripped from other teams and people coming through. A clicker seemed to notice their movement and began stumbling towards them. With a brisk pace, they hid behind a rotting counter as it edged forward. They all stayed remarkably still, one wrong move and the others would be all over them. This time, he didn’t have the luxury of using his metal pipe or gun, they needed to be stealthy and shivs were the way to go in this case.

As Maria stayed with Peter, Tony curled around the counter waiting for the clicker to come closer. It’s head turned, gaze off somewhere as he grabbed the back of the freak’s neck shoving his shiv into its jugular. It screeched as it went down, the noise agitated the others but didn’t alert them to any non-infected.

They waited a few more seconds before moving as a unit to avoid the others and their clicking. They completely bypassed an occupied runner - after all, it wasn’t a current problem they needed to get out of here. The next few movements were tedious, so fucking tedious but they had to play it safe until they made it to the gate and their exit. Tony glanced up, spotting the way out involving a latter and a damn clicker in their way. 

“Peter, get behind me.” He didn’t even notice the protectiveness of the action of making sure Peter was far from the clicker’s path. It was like when his brain was in the middle of such laser focus, there was no room for the games it liked to play.

Tony stuck to his plan of stealth, many freaks still behind him. He just had to be quick and get rid of this clicker before the others notice. He inched upward a bit, stopping when another clicking sound echoed. He glanced backward, eyes catching another freak stumbling towards them. The group waited, eyes lingering on both clickers unaware of the three people near them. The second clickers walked into the place they just came out of giving him a chance to strike. He crept up, arms already pouncing on the damn thing as it gave a small cry just as he snapped its neck.

Maria was quick to check behind him, eyes glancing around as the sudden noise drew some attention. Clickers got a bit louder, growls, and cries looming closer. Tony grabbed the latter from the ledge, bringing it down as they scrambled to climb up and away from the oncoming storm of infected. He let Maria go first, followed by Peter. He followed, feet just making it to the next floor as another clicker came to check out the noise. 

“Holy shit,” Peter breathed. “That was close.”

Tony echoed the kid’s disbelief humming in agreement as more distance grew between them and the freaks. They were out of the subway at that point, feet climbing over another round of debris left from the bombings. The rain stopped, humid air still lingering to make their hair frizz. By the time they did make it to street level again, the sun just barely started to peek over the horizon. The blue and dark hues began to change, deep purples and pinks starting to linger in. 

With some light on the group, they were able to see the mostly barren streets and buildings covered in some sort of plant life. Cars somehow remained intact: rust-covered but still whole. No one was driving these damn things but it’s a miracle they could even last it long after the bombs. They turned down one street with Maria’s directions, eyes scanning the large semi-truck blocking their path.

“How do you suppose-” A guttural growl came from their left as she turned more annoyed than alert. “Oh, this shit again.”

Tony became aware of the small group of runners beside them shortly after Hill's lackluster comment, mood matching her own tired frustration. A building long decayed had a gaping hole, moss-covered bricks revealing the stumbling figures. They continued to growl and hobble around each other, still not noticing the group quite yet. Maria shared a look with him, they couldn’t leave this group here unlike the subway. The runners still had access to the streets and _them_. 

“Pete,” The nickname slipped his mouth before he realized. Tony ignored it, arm already pushing the kid behind him. “Keep your distance, Maria and I got this.”

The kid didn’t utter a word as Maria slipped inside, a wooden spear-like weapon ready at her side. Tony had his metal pipe, gun at his side for the worst possible scenario. Though the room didn’t have too many hiding places at first glance but that didn’t mean any more freaks were lurking about. There were only three in the room and if they were smart, they could take two out before facing the last one charging at them. Their wheezes and painful groans were chilling, the stage of infection still working on the body. Their forms twitched, any last human behavior slipping away into a mindless creature.

Once in position, they shared a look. They have done this before, their takedowns like clockwork. Maria would count down from three, both of them attacking their victim with heavy blows. She mouthed the countdown, spear and shiv at the ready. 

Once she got to one, they struck. 

Hill shoved the spear as far as she could into the freaks skull, finishing off the screeching infected with her shiv. Tony followed at the same time sending two heavy blows to the head, blood splattering on the floor. The last runner charged at them growling and snapping its teeth. It launched itself right into Tony’s metal pipe, hitting the ground as Maria speared its head. The freaked stop dead, both friends happy with their work. Hill yanked her weapon out of the runner, shaking off any forms of brain matter. 

“That was amazing,” Peter whispered in awe. “That was like clockwork.”

Maria just smirked. “Years of practice that the Academy won’t teach you.” 

“Badass,” He continued on as they walked back outside to the rusted semi. “I need a spear.”

“Metal pipe does the job too, bud.” 

_ What was with these damn nicknames all of a sudden?  _

“I guess, but the spear is much cooler.”

“Fifty points to Hufflepuff,” She joked.

The kid stopped scrunching his face again, in such a cute way. “Hufflepuff?”

“Harry Potter reference.”

“Harry what now?”

Hill gasped dramatically. “Oh you poor child!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Basically a book series that turned into movies, wizard shit.”

“That wizard shit was the best series ever, Tones don’t be hating.”

“Well now I want to read it,” Peter sighed. “Damn infection.”

_ No kidding, the damn kid should be able to enjoy these things.  _

_Not trying to survive in this hellscape the world turned into._

“Well if we can find the books or hell even a movie we’ll send them to you. Wherever you end up.”

“Really?” The kid lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“Really, Really,” She promised. “Now, let’s get over this damn truck.

They climbed their way over a semi-truck using the help of a dumpster. Once their feet touched the pavement, they ran into a sliding garage door that could be opened by a pulling chain. Tony got to work opening it, the screech of metal deafening to his ears. He kept going cringing at the noise before being stopped by Maria’s wild gestures. 

“You here that?”

“No what-” Tony paused on the pulling and when the noise of the door went quiet, his ears assaulted by the sounds a horde of screeching infected. “Oh fuck, _ fuck!”  _

_ “Double time--!”  _ She hissed. “Go, go!”

“Oh fuck--!” Peter’s eyes widen. “They’re coming!”

He kept pulling, heavy mental door slowly going up. They just needed to fit under, _that’s all they needed._ The horde got closer, forms pilling, and jumping from the semi-truck. They surrounded them, growls, clicks, and screeches echoing down the street. The screams were fear-inducing, hordes of hungry teeth coming their way as the space under became large enough, Maria was already shoving Peter in before sliding under to grab the chain on the other side. The horde got closer as Tony jumped in, cold dead hands grabbing into his foot.

“Drop it!” He yelled just as the screeching became louder and stronger. 

The metal door slammed shut, blocking the freaks from eating them alive. The infected outside slammed against the door, metal shaking as they growled for their food. The door shook, bodies pressing against the metal hoping to get through. The group breathed heavily, wild eyes staring at each other. They almost began an early morning snack and he just needed a fucking drink. 

Peter was the first to speak, panicked and trying to collect himself. “Oh uh...You got something on your shoe.” 

Tony heaved trying to calm his reeling brain and panic. That was close, too damn close for his liking. All those freaks, there wouldn’t be a body left if they got him. He looked at Peter, eyes glancing down at his right boot still sporting a runner’s hand and part arm clutching it. He gagged a little bit, shaking his shoe until the damn thing came off.

“Fucking gross.” Peter empathized with a fake gag.

_ No shit.  _

The pounding subsided a little bit, the freaks still lingering outside. Every now and again growling as they slammed their whole body against the metal frame. When they finally took in their surroundings, they took in the dark and dusty garage. Tony almost immediately went to search for supplies, hoping to find spare parts he could make weapons with and more importantly, a way out that wasn’t through the way they crawled through. Mind still a bit frazzled and disjointed, he took to listening to Maria and Peter's conversation instead of adding his own input.

“So you got Nat and Steve thinking you're immune?”

“Well, that’s what they believe.”

Maria pressed on. “Well how were you bitten? I mean you must’ve been somewhere shouldn’t to find an infected in the zone.” 

“Yeah,” He laughed awkwardly. “I’d sneak out a lot. My window was pretty easy to get in and out of. I was at SHIELD Academy and the kids there practically called me Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man?”

“Basically to sneak out, you had to be pretty good at scaling a few walls. My window had perfect access to vines and exposed brick. After a while I just got good at sneaking in and out without anyone seeing.” 

“And where would Spider-Man sneak out to, huh?” She teased looking around herself. 

“I don’t know, just explore the city. But I was at the mall when I ran into the infected.” 

“That place is completely off-limits, how the hell did you get in there?”

“I...uh had my ways. Knew some people-” The kid stopped talking for a bit taking a shaky breath. “Anyways, one of those, uh things you call runners just came out of nowhere and bit me. _And well...that was that.”_

_ Definitely sounded like there was more to that story. _

“These people you knew? Was it Nat and Steve? Some other Avenger when you were bitten?”

“Uh no well…” He trailed off. “It's complicated but I only went to them after I... _you know_ didn’t turn.” 

“Knowing them I’m surprised they didn’t shoot you.” 

“They almost did,” He laughed a bit. “Steve had me pinned against the wall as Natasha had her gun ready. Man, that was a hectic few minutes.” 

“I bet.”

“I hope they’re alright,” He added. “They didn’t look so hot.”

“I told you,” Maria assured. “They’ll be fine.” 

________

The garage wasn’t too big, but that didn’t mean it that space couldn’t have supplies. Tony stumbled around as the kid talked to Maria, crafting new shivs since some of his were left bent and broken. The garage almost looked untouched by the bombs, dust covering the work surfaces and computer still intact. Even if people have been through here, it looks like there hasn’t been anyone in a while. That wasn’t a surprise, a horde of freaks sat right outside. 

After a while, they found their way into an old museum. The floorboards rotted and falling in, decay really taking effect here. Unlike the garage, this place clearly shown the last twenty years chipping away at the structure. Trash and debris were everywhere, building caving in on itself. Some of the rooms were cluttered with debris, leaving no room to stand upright let alone travel through. 

Just before they reached another debris filled room, Peter fell into a bust, just catching it before it fell onto the floor. It probably was a priceless artifact or something, easy to break, and yet the kid only response was a sheepish smile.  He glanced at the face, putting it back on its little wooden display. But just as he did, the damn display crumbled taking the poor bust down with it. It fell to the floor cracking and chipping into a few pieces as the kid stood their helplessly and shocked. He tried picking it up again, only to have more pieces break apart. 

“Oh shit,” He muttered holding both broken pieces. Maria only laughed at the boy’s antics. “That was well unexpected.”

“No kidding,” Tony couldn’t hold back a laugh either. The poor kid really couldn’t stop being adorable.

They continued onward and into the main rooms. 

“So this place,” Peter asked looking at the few items and paintings that weren't decaying quite yet. He stops and takes a look at some flower painting. “It’s an old art museum right? I read about them but I never thought I’d actually see one or well, what's left of it.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s just an art museum. Granted I wouldn’t be surprised if passed some dinosaur bones or something super old.”

“Dinosaurs-“ The kid stared at him in awe. “Before people just got to go and look at super old things?”

“Yeah,” Maria chimed in. “Old artifacts, paintings, you name it. Museums showcase history from a hundred years prior. Hell even longer depending on the certain artifact.”

“A hundred years ago-“ The kid was practically gawking at this point. “Damn infection, I wanna see dinosaur bones.”

The thought of something being hundred years old was probably mind-boggling to the kid. Even the lifespan of objects was short in his world - and for some people;e it was even shorter. Pepper loved museums when she could go, dragging Tony around rambling off about art prices, her art history major on full display. Their house was covered in paintings, extravagant gifts he managed to surprise her with. 

Maria laughed at the kid’s comment, patting his shoulder as they moved on.  They stumbled onto a part of the roof collapsed inward. The path was partially blocked by fallen support beams and debris not making their journey any easier. 

“Alright you two,” He heaved lifting beam with all his might. “Watch your head.”

Tony managed to lift a beam just for Maria and Peter to squeeze under. His legs shook, sudden added weight making his knees buckled as the roof caved. The beam fell again, reblocking the path but now weighed down by heavy debris. 

“ _Tones?!_ Tony?!” 

He practically heard Rhodey then, coughing as the dust settled from the beams. 

_ “Mr. Stark—!” _

He snapped out of his daze long enough to see two figures trying to determine where they could reach him. His heart ached at Peter’s calls, no _cries_. “I’m alive, just fine...I’ll make my way-“ He dusted himself off, back already giving him drama. “I’ll make my way around to you.”

“Fuck, Tony-“ Maria’s sentence was cut off by a loud screech.

Growls, clicks, and screeches filled the rooms. Both groups equally panicking.

“Hill—!”

“Look they’re here!” The kid yelled.

“Run!  _ Peter run!”  _ He heard Maria scream, and their footsteps pounded away, clickers and runners on their heels.

“Fucking shit.”

Tony was quick to scramble upward, joints aching but adrenaline pumping. _He needed to find them, he needed to get to them_. He crouched his way through another area, whispering their names until a few rounds of clicks and screeches echoed in his room. He cursed, eyes glancing around as the freaks stumbled about. 

By the time he makes his way into the bar area probably meant for employees, but he didn’t care at this moment, four clickers came into view. These freaks were all too far apart but still in close range to be overrun quickly. Cursing once more, he hid behind the bar area cursing to himself for separated. The damn ceiling had to cave in at the last minute,

_ Fucking decay.  _

His hands ghosted over an empty glass bottle knowing he could draw a few here. He aimed it at the far corner, glass shattering as three of the four screeched and came closer. His breath hitched at their moment, body slowly slipping to the side as the clickers tried to pounce on the shattered glass. They clicked some more, bodies not realizing what he had in his hand,  _ a Molotov.  _

He chucked it, three bodies going up in flames as they cried out. The fourth one came flying around the corner, face caving in as Tony slammed into it with his pipe. He heaved burned bodies and brain matter littering the floor. He didn’t linger, body already taking him to the next few rooms searching for Maria and Peter.

Every room was pretty much the same after that, moldy green carpets covered in the falling ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling off, mold and water damage apparent throughout. And also a clicker or two being taken out by his pipe or a shiv. 

He made it to a stairwell after the end of the green carpet and started to climb the creaky stairs. As he ascended, he could hear a runner pounding on something, gunshots, and infected dying filling the space moments later. He hastened his pace to a run, mind panicking. Behind the door, more commotion continued on as the runner beat against the wood. Tony was quick to kill the damn thing with his pipe, metal already seeing better days as the freak fell. Kicking open the door, he was met with the chaos unfolding. 

The first thing he saw was Maria struggling with a runner. He launched forward only to stop when she slammed a heavy piece of wood into the freaks head. She screamed, kicking its stumbling body to the ground. She hit the runner again, head caving in as the wooden plank broke into two.

Tony ran to her hand reaching out. “Shit, Maria-“

She shoved his arm away, with a shaky breath. “Sorry I-“ Her eyes went glassy as she tried to compose herself. “Shit sorry, I’m fine.  _ I’m fine. _ The damn thing just knocked the wind out of me.”

His eyes his friend, about to say something as more runners echoed in the room in front of them. They shared a look realizing just who wasn’t there. 

“Shit, Pete-“

_ “Guys get in here!” _

They ran into the other room, and Tony’s gut twisted at the sight of Peter grappling with a male runner, hungry for the boy’s flesh. It snapped at him, body trying to ram him up against some display before it bit into his neck.

“Get off of me, fucker!” The kid seethed trying to get the upper hand.

He let his instincts take over instead of using his brain and tactic. Like a mad man, he whacked the fuck out of the freak, enough to dent its skull. Breathing heavy, he knocked it away from Peter: eyes about to give a kid a glance over before a runner gunned for them. Just as the first runner hit the ground, Maria shot the runner barreling towards them shunning it. Tony sent his fist into its face, freak falling to the ground as he stomped his boot onto the infected’s face as it caved in. Another runner screeched, bursting into the room focusing its hungry gaze on Hill and the kid. 

Peter quick on his feet, grabbed a wooden plank knocking the runner to the floor with a pretty decent head wound. Maria was quick to finish it off, one final shot before everything became a flurry of panic, punches, and blood. The ongoing fight seemed to go on for hours, all three of them trying to overtake the mass of infected. 

Granted the hours were probably minutes but using street fighting tactics against freaks felt like a long fucking time. The kid instead of punches made use of his plank; Lanky and smallish frame fending off runners before they get the upper hand. Hill speared the last one through the eye, watching it fall to the ground dead. The group heaved eyes frantic for any more runners. 

That was too damn close.

Tony cracked his bloody knuckles whirling around to Peter and Maria, who in turn were both bloody, shaken, and winded like him. Otherwise, everyone seemed fine, just a bit out of breath. 

“Is everyone—“ He heaved taking a look at his metal pipe. He was going to have to find another one soon. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” Maria muttered shaking off the remaining runner off her spear. “What about you, Pete?” 

“Yeah,” He nodded broken bloody plank still in his hands. His knuckles were white gripping into that thing for dear life. “I’m fine.”

They moved towards the center, making their way to an area they could see all angles. This room was mostly trashed with the bodies littering the floor. Glass shattered either during the bombing or other attacks, vases probably worth thousands of dollars were shattered; the blood dry and new sticking to floors like paint. 

A total shitshow. 

Maria seemed in her own world a bit, shaky breath escaping her as she leaned against the worn wallpaper. “Shit.”

“Hey,” Tony looked at her worried. “You holding up ok?”

“Yeah,” She huffed finding her footing again. “Runner just popped out of nowhere, a bit winded but I’ll be fine.”  She gave him a tight smile in return, eyes almost pained. She nodded not putting her spear away just yet, she was on edge clearly.  She gestured to the open window. “This way should get us to the rooftop. I’m sick of this place.”

He nodded unsure, allowing his friend to lead the way. She jumped out, arms already pulling herself up on the next ledge of the fire escape. The sky started to glow brighter, dark hues fading into light pinks and oranges. Peter trailed behind him, plank still in his hands. 

“You know kid,” Tony tried to find some comforting words, he was terrible at this shit. “You can let go of the plank now. I’m sure your hands will thank you later.”

Peter blinked, almost like he was coming out of a daze himself. “Oh right.” He tosses the plank to the side, stretching out his fingers.

“So how are you?”

_ Yup definitely comforting words.  _

The kid shrugs. “Okay.”

“Define okay?”

“Okay as in almost got bitten by a runner  _ again _ but somehow still breathing even if it’s panicked breaths.”

“Sounds like you’re living the dream.”

“Yeah,” He scoffed. “No shit.”

The two of them walked in silence after that, following Maria up to the rooftop. By the time they reached it, she was in the middle of laying a large plank atop the railings of the two buildings. 

“There she is,” She pointed to the golden dome somehow pulling herself together in the minute they were behind her. “That's our building.”

Thank God, he just happy to be out of an infected building. Maria places the plank as Tony turned to the kid. 

“Now watch your step as you’re going up, cause it’s going to be a little-“

Peter pushed passed him and stepped up onto the plank with ease, eloquently expressing his previous knowledge of plank walking and his superiority to Tony with a ‘Pfff’ as he passed. He blinked almost reminded of Pepper again and how she would love this damn sassy kid. With the sentiment still in his mind, he stopped beside the kid when he dropped down next to him and observed the sunrise glinting on the golden Capitol building.

“Well, is that everything you hoped for?

The kid’s big brown eyes glinted up at him through the sunlight as Tony felt a pinch in his heart. He blinked a few times trying not to let his damn heart take over. 

“Pick it up, old man.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” He grumbled with no real heat behind it. 

Maria stopped him shortly before she walked down the latter. “Look, we’re almost done. Don’t lose focus on me ok?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Once their feet landed on something that wasn’t decaying and sturdy, they trekked onward careful of their surroundings. Most of the infected should be back by the garage but after this last shitshow, they weren’t risking anything. It was only when they stumbled upon a fenced area Maria finally spoke again.

“It’s right around this corner, c’mon.”

She kept moving, more like surging forward. Hill wasn’t playing games anymore and he couldn’t blame her. Peter on the other hand looked a bit giddy, eyes taking in the sight of the golden dome growing closer with every step.

“Let’s keep moving, kid.”

It didn’t take long for them to find another dead Avengers’ scout laying in his blood mess in an alleyway all too close to their drop off. Tony got goosebumps, hand slowly picking up the bloody orders the man died with.

**ORDERS:** _ Patrol the rendezvous area. Ensure no military presence before moving the boy to the next safe house. _

Another handwritten addition was added at the bottom of the paper _. _

_ Make sure the boy is well fed and in good health. His safety is of the utmost importance. _

“Another—“ Peter seemed disturbed by the body. “What if we get there and they’re all dead?”

“They won’t be,” Maria said firmly, lips in a thin line.

“But how do you know?”

“I just do, Peter.”

It was the first time she’s ever really snapped at him.

“Yeah...okay.”

She sighed and seemed to calm herself. “It’s going to be fine,  _ It has to be. _ ”

Tony didn’t miss the desperation in her eyes, her voice. He felt uneasy, wondering what changed her attitude so drastically. Sure a runner  _ almost  _ got her but by now Maria would be laughing and cursing the freak off. His mouth forms a question failing to go past his lips as she herded them forward.

One more fence to get over, one more alley to travel through, and they finally made it to a wide street, capital building in all its glory. Twenty years of decay on the outside, vines growing on the bricks but it stood tall, dome shining bright. Right in front of them was a small lake of murky green water filling the broken street. Just one more thing to travel through.

_ Finally. _

“There we go,” He smiled only a tiny bit. “Homestretch, Maria.”

When they reached the bank of the floodwater, Peter stopped and cautioned them. “Um...just so it’s out there, I can’t swim.”

Tony had to suppress the urge of wanting to wrap the poor boy in some water wings. Of course he didn’t know how to swim, the damn military ignored that teaching from the jump. They wanted kids to protect the zones not swim in some random ass lake. Even though, these days a few cities and structures can have massive floods due to the rocky terrain. 

Maria seemed to lighten a bit, and chuckled. “Look, it seems like it’s a bit shallow on the ends, follow me.”

As she led Peter through the shallow parts, Tony overheard him say, “Hey, uh...I know you guys are getting paid for this and I know it’s probably been pretty annoying for you to even take me this far. But anyway..I’m glad Nat convinced you to take me uh well hire you. Maria chuckled a bit as Peter’s face seemed to redden. “Look, what I mean to say is thank you, and _I mean it.”_

Even behind them, Tony couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit. He wouldn’t mention it to anymore but damn this kid knew how to tug at his heartstrings. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

He could hear Maria’s soft smile. “You’re welcome kiddo.”

When they made it to the stone steps, he couldn’t stop but feel himself tense up as they climbed them. The group had no idea what was on the other side of those doors. They were either going to hand the kid off, get their guns, and lay low, or come across a shitshow of soldiers or infected. 

_ Oh, the possibilities were endless and not in a good way. _

A part of Tony started to like the fact for having the kid around, the three of them together made a pretty good team. But Peter, as he put it, was some “cure” that the Avengers wouldn’t just let go. 

Reaching the doors, their gaze lingers on the door for a few seconds. No one was brave enough just yet to see what was on the other side. Hill finally makes the move to open the door, desperation washing over her again. They barely a foot through the door before they stumbled upon the worst fucking scenario.

“No,” Maria exclaimed as Tony only sighed. _“No, no, no!”_

The floor was littered with dead Avengers, their blood staining the floors. The drop off team Nat and Steve mentioned were no more, just lifeless bodies with bullet holes. They had no other plan, no other directions to go. It was a dead-end to a long and stressful journey.

“Fuck, fuck, _ fuck!” _ She chanted as she dropped to her knees and began to aggressively tug at one of the fallen Avenger, searching his many pockets frantically. 

Peter slowly walked inside as Tony shut the door. The kid took a look at the scene in front of him, eyes widen and unsure. “What happens now?” His voice was small and he hated every part of it. 

Dumb luck had to run out at some point and in this case, met a hoard of guns and merchandise staying with the Avengers. Now they had a kid to worry about, a boy looking rather crestfallen by these events. He tries to ignore the same stares from Peter, walking over to his rather panicked friend.

“What are you doing, Maria?”

“Oh God,” She heaved eyes glassy. “Maybe they ah--” She was scattered brain at this point, mouth not speaking what her head wanted to say. “Maybe they had a map or something. Maybe they had some other place where they were going after the drop-off.” 

“Jesus Hill,” He sighs. “How far are we actually gonna take this?”

“ _ As far as it needs to go!”  _ She continued to search for a minute before snapping her gaze to Peter, who stood away from them meekly. 

The poor kid probably thought they were ditching him, that wasn’t happening but other factors definitely came into play. Sneaking back into the zone, somehow figuring out where the kid would stay. He was infected, he couldn’t just walk openly in the zone. At this point, they might not be able to head back. 

“Where was this lab of theirs?” Maria demanded.

Peter jumped, then shrugged nervously. “Nat never said—they never told me. They only mentioned that it was someplace out west.”

“ _ Hill?  _ Maria? What are you doing? What are we doing here? This is not us, we need-”

“What do you know about _ us _ , Tony? About me?”

Tony was not about to dissect whatever the fuck that meant, so he just huffed, “I know that you are smarter than  _ this _ .” 

“Really?” She huffed eyes still glassy and bloodshot. “Stark, hate to break to you but we’re shitty people, no better than these damn assholes on the ground. It’s been like for a long ass-”

“ _ No,” _ He matched her fire growing frustrated as well. “We are survivors—!” 

“This is our chance—!”

“ _ It is over, Maria!”  _ His angry voice echoed through the empty building. He could feel Peter’s eyes watching them, the tension in the room still building. “Now we tried, _really fucking did._ But there’s no one coming. Let’s just go home.”

To his surprise and terror, tears filled Maria’s desperate eyes. In all his years of knowing her, he never actually saw her like this before. Maria Hill didn’t cry in front of anybody, only alone with a door she could close.

“I’m not…” Her voice broke, a stray tear falling. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my last stop, Tones.”

_ What the fuck is she— _

“Our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Tony goes to grab her arm. “What are you going on about-”

She slaps it away. “Don’t-” Her voice breaks again, composer coming apart. “Don’t touch me.”

He only stood there confused, what fresh hell was—

“Holy shit.” Peter breathed from behind him. Tony whirled to look at him, and the kid’s wobbly eyes met his own, before flicking back to Maria. “ _ She’s infected.”  _

The air left his lungs, the world almost starting to spin. He blinked, blood running cold.

_ Infected, no she can’t be— _

_ Infected, the museum, the runner— _

_ Infected, no, no, no. _

He faced her slowly, truth showing in her wet eyes. Tony stumbled back, shaky hands curled into fist A tear rolled down her cheek, brave expression cracking under the fear.

_ Oh God, oh God. _

She can’t be — she’s fine, his friend was not…

He shook his head, tears threatening to spill. He can’t go through this again, he can’t lose another person, he  _ can’t  _ lose her. 

_ But he already did. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, how the turntables ;)


	6. Good Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria never met his eyes, as he numbly stared at her. He wished this was some nightmare, that he would wake up in that shitty bed with a hangover. He was not losing one of the only friends he had to his damn world, not for some guns and certainly not an Avengers Crusade.
> 
> Her eyes finally met his. “Tony…”
> 
> “Let me see it.” His voice was the opposite of steady.
> 
> “I didn’t mean for this--
> 
>  _“Show it to me,”_ His voice was raw, emotion coming to the surface.
> 
> She clenched her jaw and jerked back the collar of her flannel shirt.
> 
> “Oh, _Christ.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major character death, mentions of blood/gore, guns, and alcohol

Maria never met his eyes, as he numbly stared at her. He wished this was some nightmare, that he would wake up in that shitty bed with a hangover. He was not losing one of the only friends he had to his damn world, not for some guns and certainly not an Avengers Crusade.

Her eyes finally met his. “Tony…”

“Let me see it.” His voice was the opposite of steady. 

“I didn’t mean for this--

_ No, of course, you didn’t. No one wanted to turn into a spore monster. _

_ “Show it to me _ ,” His voice was raw, emotion coming to the surface.

She clenched her jaw and jerked back the collar of her flannel shirt.

“Oh,  _ Christ.” _

The bite was real, clear as day on her collarbone. Red and sickly, infection already spreading through her like wildfire. She was much paler now, sweat just breaking over her brow. There was no saving her, the infected had won.

“ _ Oops _ , right?”

_ Don’t joke. Don’t fucking joke.  _

Peter choked on a small sob behind them, but Tony didn’t turn. Maria did though, advancing towards the boy trying to hold it together.

“Give me your arm.” She gripped it; jerking up the sleeve of Peter’s shirt, revealing his bite and gesturing to it. “This was three weeks.” She revealed her own bite and advanced on Tony, who was still frozen, dragging the kid with her. He remained quiet and blank-faced as he followed her, silent tears falling. “I was bitten an hour ago, and it’s already worse. This shit is _fucking real_ , Tony.”

He couldn’t look her in the eye, he couldn’t stare at his friend dying to the infection. __

She released Peter to get into his face. “You have got to get this boy to Rhodey’s, he used to run with this crew, he’ll know where to go-“

Finally, Tony broke. “No, no, no, that was  _ your crusade _ .” He gestured to Peter, not really caring about his glassy eyes. “I am not doing that--”

“ _ Yes, _ yes you are.” She cupped his face in her hands, and he felt sick inside. “Look, there’s enough here that you have to feel some sort of obligation to me, right? You're my fucking best friend,  _ my brother, _ and this is my last fucking wish so  _ please Tones, please.  _ You get Pete to Rhodey’s, that’s all I want.”

Their eyes met, a pitiful smile sitting on her lips. She sniffled, eyes giving away just how much pain she was actually in. The infection process was in full force, cells inside her changing and turning into something else.

_ Fuck. _

The sound of a truck came from outside the doors, tires screeching. Maria jerks away, glancing out the windows as she pulled out her gun facing him.

“Watch the exit—!”

“The military, they’re here.”

_ Fuck, FUCK. _

“I can buy you some time but you have to  _ run _ .”

Just as everything in his being protested that idea, Peter spoke up, “What? You want us to just leave you _here?”_

_ “Yes.” _

Tony heard enough. “There is no way in hell--”

“I will not turn into one of those things, Stark!” There was a heavy long pause, painful and all too agonizing. Maria still had tears in her eyes, looking just as panic as he was. “Come on, Tones,” She pleaded with him. “Make this easy for me.”

_ Tony— _

He’s warped back twenty years earlier, bloody hands appearing very clear in his memory. Pepper lays there lifeless, eyes still open and staring up at the cloudy sky. Tony heaved, body starting to tremble. He lost too much already, he can’t lose anymore.

He gave one last go, knuckles white. “Maria, I’m not about to…” He trails off pushing down his emotions, reaching out towards her own shaking form. “I can fight, please just let me-” 

“ _ No! Just go! _ ” She shoved him hard in the chest, causing him to stumble backward.

He regains his footing, heat lingering from rough touch. He blinked, numbly touching the spot she just shoved. Tony stepped forward as she stepped back shaking her head with a painful sigh. 

_ This was it. _

“Just fucking go.” Her plea was gentle yet desperate.

He stares back at her, many words he wants to say refusing to come out. His hand drops to his side the lingering touch still sitting on his skin. Their eyes meet, just inches away but weren’t getting any closer. That shove, this conversation was the last time he’d see her alive, last time he ever see her... _breathing_. They share one final knowing look, eyes telling more than they could both muster. Tony is the one to break it, emotions barely under control as he glanced over to kid losing it himself.

“Peter-” He started.

“I’m sorry,” The kid whispered, hiccuping as he wiped his tears away. “I didn’t — I didn't mean for any of this.”

“Just,” He couldn’t look at the kid, not now. Not with the anger and sadness still floating around. “Get a move on.”

The kid went without further argument, his head hanging low. Tony backed his way to the door slowly, eyes locking with Maria’s once more. She sniffled, giving him a wet smile she could somehow muster. 

“Thank you, Tones,” She whispered.

It was her goodbye, her final send-off. Tony sniffled himself, eyes lingering on his friend, his  _ sister, _ wordlessly saying her goodbyes with one simple gaze. He didn’t want to move, but her face, her eyes pleaded with him to go and he had to listen. 

With a shaky breath, he broke eye contact turning towards the door. His hand yanked the door open, body lingering in the doorway almost turning back on her one final time. His head goes high, body slipping into the next room as the door shuts behind him sealing Maria’s fate. He numbly leads the kid away, soldier's voices breaking through.

“We know you're in there!”

“Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up!” 

Tony stopped listening after that, bile coming up as he bitterly swallowed it down. He zoned out, panic and grief raging war within him. 

“What the fuck,” The kid whispered still crying. “I can’t believe we just-”

_ Yeah, we fucking left her, don’t remind me.  _

“Stop,” He whispers.

“We just left her to die.”

_ She’s dead, dead, dead, dead. _

“Stop!” He shouted startling Peter. He seethes not wanting to hear about how he left his friend. The kid barely knew her for a day and suddenly he wants to comment on his life choices. The world sucked, _this job fucking sucked_. “You shut up and stay close to me, I’m not slowing down. Get your ass moving.”

“I-” The kid looked hurt, crestfallen at Tony’s sudden outburst. “Yeah, okay.”

Peter stops talking as they travel up the stairs barely taking in the large colonel painting above them. A sudden burst of the door echoes into their room, multiple voices echoing. They quicken their pace, halfway up the second flight of stairs when gunshots rang out.

_ “Get her—!” _

Maria screams follow soon after, gunshots falling silent. The kid stops dead in his tracks Tony, jerking him forward with a mix of emotions. He couldn't sit down now, not with soldiers lurking about. 

“Just keep pushing forward.”

They sprint down a wooden panel hallway, feet coming to a halt as an archway came into view. They stop, gaze slowly recognizing the room they were just in from a higher perspective. Light shines through the windows, fullying showing the soldiers coming from outside. Together, creep around the balcony trying to take in what just how many forces they had to face.

“Target neutralized.” 

He cringed at that comment, legs slowly taking him forward. 

“She took out two of my men,” The soldier waits for a response, radio chatter barely audible. “Copy that. You,” He points to some random dude. “Take out that door. And you, with me.”

“Copy that.”

Tony nearly goes right, hiding behind thick railings as the kid stops behind him drawing in a breath.

“Oh my God,” Peter sounds shocked, almost horrified. 

He whips his head to match the kids gaze and—

_ Shit, fucking shit. _

“Maria.”

A lump grows in his throat, eyes lingering on the scene in front of him. Peter sniffles beside him, as Tony couldn’t quite tear himself away. Maria laid there among the bodies, a fresh pool of blood forming around her. Her lifeless daze stares into his very soul, face forever edged in a form of distress. The soldiers surged forward, his body refusing to move. The sight of her body takes the air out of his lungs, a chill running down his spine.

Maria shouldn't be with those people down there, nor should she have had to deal with the cards the universe dealt her. She deserved to be here, right next to him. Not the lifeless body left to waste among others, not to something as common as a shoot out. 

_ He should have- _

Pepper's body appears beside her just as lifeless and bloody. He heaves shutting his eyes with a pained breath, trying to push away the image ingrained in his mind. Twenty years and he's still adding to his never-ending trauma. 

_ Your fault, your fault, your fucking fault. _

“Yes sir.”

Tony opens his eyes as five soldiers disappear from under the balcony. He glances back to Peter unsure what to say or do. His mind was still trying to process his dead wife, how the fuck was he supposed to care for this child? Their eyes meet finally, nothing being conveyed expect for worried looks. He heaves, somehow tugging the kid as pounding starts on the door they just came through. 

Scrambling upward they find themselves in a green room with white crown molding. Their breaths are panicked, scattered brains trying to look for anything useful in the room. Peter grabs a pair of scissors of a cluster of desks holding them up half-heartedly - trying to find some bright side in his shitty mess. The kid’s eyes were still red, nerves radiating off the poor child. Sudden clash and splitting wood echoes into the halls, voices coming closer. Tony reels his raging thoughts back in, the guilt still trying to consume him. 

Maria was dead, sacrifice giving them a few moments to flee.  And if they didn’t hurry they would be joining her soon. 

“We’re through,” A soldier's voice echoes. 

_ Shit, they need to move.  _

“Uh we should,” Peter firmly holds the scissors, “We should move.”

Tony’s gaze focuses on the gaping hole in the side of the building, sunlight, and vines sweeping through. “No shit, Parker,” He snaps back already scoping out makeshift planks connecting the once window into another room. 

The two hope over into a brightly colored yellow room with teal curtains. This room remains intact, structure mostly there except for the crumbling hole leading back towards the room they came from. One soldier yells an 'all clear' from the hallway, cause their stress levels to rise. The soldiers were gaining on them, all too trigger happy for anyone's liking. 

“Proceed with caution. There’s still at least two more of them in here.”

_ How the hell-- someone, some scouts must have seen them.  _

_ Shit.  _

“Oh thank God,” The kid’s voice sounds oddly relieved as he whips his head in the direction of two-door frames. 

Another dead Avenger lays in his own pool of blood, blood slumped right behind the two doors all while holding  _ a hunting rifle.  _

_ Ok, maybe the universe didn’t hate him that much.  _

Tony is quick to grab the gun and extra ammo, ready the weapon with a heavy sigh of relief. This by no means even the odds against them but it did give them an edge against military weapons. His pistol and revolver weren’t going to do much good if they got cornered.

“Great you got one now give me your pistol.”

He nearly laughed out loud by that statement. “There is no way I’m giving you a gun.”

Peter gawks, glaring at the same time. “Excuse me? May I remind you we have soldiers chasing after us with guns?!”

The grip on his rifle tighten. “Trust me, kid, I know,” He bit back. “But I don’t need an inexperienced child firing at them.”

“I know how-”

“They’re escaping into the hall go around!”

_ Fuck. _

Tony, with record speed, shoves the kid forward into the next room; both pairs of eyes spotting yet another Avenger with his brains blown out. The kid looks at the sight with disgust, eyes trying their hardest to look away from the gore. Blood spattered against the white pillars, covering the walls with its crimson hue. The same splatter continued onward, marking dirty tablecloths, different tables, and paintings. Moving past the bloodshed, they duck behind one table, right next to two a random patch of grass growing between the titles. 

“What do we-”

“Shh,” He harshly whispered, not in the least bit comforting. He glances behind them, free hand pulling his metal pipe with a few nasty dents. “Take this.”

The kid deadpanned, unamused. “A bloody metal pipe. Gee Mr. Stark, I can’t wait to deflect bullets with this.”

“Shut it kid or I’ll leave your ass here.”

Peter stopped talking after that, a small wave of fear falling over his features. Truth be told, Tony wasn’t leaving the kid, he promised Maria after all and he intends to follow through. But currently, in this situation, he just needed the kid to shut up. Peaking over their table, he catches a few soldiers fanning out and taking positions. Together, he knew they didn't have enough ammo left alone manpower to take them all out. They had to play this smart.

Slowly, he nudges the kid to follow him to another form of cover, eyes taking in the archway leading into another room that appeared mostly empty. Taking in his surroundings once more, his hands ghosting over a crumbling brick latching onto it. One soldier appears from up ahead, dumbass barely checking the room they were hiding in.  Soldiers technically could be treated as a mix of runners and clickers; sounds distracted them but they could still see your movements if you weren't careful. 

Peter smartly enough grabbed a brink in his hand as well, already getting memo as their eyes met. Quietly, he shifted in front of the kid, arm arching the brink up above towards a balcony section. The object hit the railing, crumbling down as the soldier, gasped glancing in the direction of the brink. 

Taking their chance, they slipped into another room of broken glass cases probably holding historical documents. A lone soldier stood in the doorway before walking out into the hall unbothered. They slipped by into a bigger room with checkered floors, that same soldier coming into view. Looking around, this room was a larger mess; glass was all over the floors, paintings, and chairs alike all thrown about as dried blood caked the floors. 

Together, they huddle around another table, Peter mostly pressed against the wall as Tony takes in the scene. The soldier still unaware, moves to the center of the room, still alone with his back turned to them. Gesturing to the kid to stay put, he sneaks up on the man, putting him in a chokehold. Both men struggle a bit, painful gasp coming from the soldier before he finally falls limp in his arms. 

Peter shifts his cover to a tattered leather couch, eyes watching as Tony dragged the unconscious soldier behind a table cloth. 

“Keep moving were not out of the woods yet,” He whispers surging into the hallway.

Together they continue weaving through those rooms, using the pieces of debris and furniture as covers watching the soldiers try to pinpoint where they actually are. As a unit, Peter chucks a brink at one guy's head before Tony uses that disorientation to smashes the fucker's skull against the table. The soldier falls limp, hat falling off as the others lingering about itch closer due to the noise. The body is disposed of and both of them shift through the rooms again getting the jump on both soldiers without too much of a hassle. 

The last man goes down as they make it to a small stairwell still sporting the ugly bright yellow as the other room. Down the stairs, the kid grabs a solid piece of a wooden plank as they reached the cave in potion of the stairs. They hop down, Tony’s joints already protesting but he didn’t have time to deal with that now. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

Walking through another area, they come across rooms more barren than the others and eerily silent. Pausing, they crouch behind a long wooden desk, water damage, the new form of decay, especially evident in this room

Tony turns to Peter, who knuckles were almost white from squeezing the wooden plank so hard. “Stay down. I don’t know how many more there are.”

“Got it,” He replied voice small and panicked. 

They press on through different rooms, some dimly lit from lack of windows. Together they use the same methods as upstairs, throwing something to distract before a silent takedown. For the most part that seemed to work - until some military asshat walked in on the act of them hiding the body and earn a shiv to the neck. They didn't linger when blood pooled on the floor, voices making Tony usher the kid out of the room

His blood rushes to his ears, the same panic from before still gripping at his chest. He could deny the looming fact of limited ammo and the sheer amount of soldiers lurking about. Adrenaline kicks into high gear at this point, his eyes darting from hiding places as Tony tries to assemble a plan.

“They still haven't found the last two.”

“I heard one of them was a kid.”

Tony, still working out a solid plan, followed by Peter snuck into the room two soldiers were talking in. It was s casual conversation their guns held like it was no big deal. He couldn't pull the kid card, bait the men into letting them go. The kids was infected, they wouldn't let them live.

“Does it matter? They took out a bunch of our guys.”

“Jesus. Well hey, after today this whole Avenger bullshit will be behind us.”

He nearly cursed out loud, of course, they think they're Avengers. It was just his luck, some supply run turned into something way over his pay grade. The trip was too good to be true once Nat and Steve offered it to them. The military was wiping their little freedom group out, placing a shit ton of pressure on them. They weren't just taking care of their people's lives but the potential of mankind's a well.

And he is, stuck with a child in a practical death trap of humans and infected. Maria had paid the price for some damn guns, who's to say Tony wasn't next?

Her body lying in her own blood flashes through his head, vivid detail of another person he failed His hands shook, emotions trying to come back to the surface but he couldn’t let that happen, not now. He had someone else to get out of this mess, to get to Rhodey’s apparently. A man he hasn't seen on years and yet she still knew how to push them back together.

She was the reason he was alive today, the one constant in his life gone.

They press forward, s hifting from cover to cover. Quick to take out the two men, they rested their limp forms against a bookshelf of ruin books. The next room they entered was another one filled with pillars, this time holding three soldiers clustered together in a tight group. Staying by the doorway, their eyes gazing inside, they finally stumble across the welcoming sight of sunlight and freedom.

It was an exit, an open door out of this death trap.

“Mr. Stark, there’s the exit,” Peter whispers pointing. 

“I see it,” He responds by putting a plan into motion. “You still got a brick on you?” The kid nodded, smirking. Tony held back a smirk, not wanting to give in just yet. His body turned towards the closest soldier without a helmet. “Knock that sucker in the head and then use your metal pipe to finish the job. I’ll rush out and grab the other guy and aim my gun at his friend ok?”

“You're taking on-”

“Yes, I am now,  _ go _ ,” He whispered surging forward just as the brink hit the man in the nose. 

His left arm wraps around the soldier's neck as the other dude Peter hit tried to scramble upward before earning a face full of metal. The first soldier is knocked out cold, broken bloody nose bruising already. Tony’s gun sits in his right hand, aim at the other soldier ready to fire as he uses his military friend as a shield. The soldier fires the first shot right into his friend as the kid ducks for cover. 

Tony follows suit, two shots firing as he struggles to hold up the wounded and slightly rasping soldier. One of his shots skims past the man’s shoulder and into a wall, the other one went wide and landed who knows where. There’s a small silence, both men ready to fire at a moment's notice. The soldier in his arms began hissing in pain limbs flailing as he tried to get away. 

“Avenger scum,” The soldier with the gun scoff aiming his weapon high. 

“Trust me,” He heaved getting a better grip on man hissing. “It’s not the type of boy band I’d run with.” 

The soldier shoots again, the bullet hitting his ‘friend’ in the leg. The man cries out, blood staining the floor and his pants. 

“Damnit Wilder, just drop-” A loud crack cuts him off, wood splitting in half as the soldier drops his gun to the floor. Blood gushes from his nose, broken like others with an all too proud Peter standing not too far away. _“You little shit!”_

The soldier tries to go after the kid, but Peter was long scrambling away as Tony aims his gun straight for his head. There's a loud bang and a body falls. Headshot, and another pool blood forming at their feet. The bastard didn’t even see it coming.

Wilder struggled in his arms, gasps as Tony tighten the hold around his throat. They stayed like that for a few more seconds, him watching the wounded man slowly lose consciousness and fall to the floor with a thud. The kid appeared once more, peeking out behind a couch with a relieved expression. 

“That was a close one.”

“No shit,” He agreed catching his breath, as he wipes his hands clean of blood. He gestures to the door leading outside already tugging the kid along. “Don’t stop, there still could be more.”

“Right,” Peter huffed stumbling to regain his footing as he was tugged along. “Sucks that the ass broke my plank with his face.” 

“That’s what the metal pipe is for.”

He deadpans. “It’s dented.”

“And? It worked for me.”

“You have attachment issues.”

_ You have no idea.  _

Ignoring his moody teenager, they traveled down the stairs of a back entrance surrounded by another green shallow pond. Subway stairs stood a few feet away, grey concrete mostly covered in vines and moss. More broken ruins of the city came into view but there wasn’t time to marvel at the downfall of society. They needed to get out of here quickly.

“Head for the stairs but stay low,” He whispered to Peter watching their backs as they made their way over.

It was a slight decline, red subway tile covering the outside world as they passed under a tattered American flag. Tony wanted to laugh at the irony, to make some crude joke about his stupid days in college but Maria wasn’t here and wouldn’t be ever again. A somber mood washes over him, snarky remark falling flat on his lips never uttered. A large piece of rubbled blocked the steps, both of them making another high jump into the rocky ground. 

A truck engine revs in the distance. “They’re going into the subway! Stop them!”

_ Fuck, there was more of them.  _

The truck pulls right in front of the entrance, more soldiers piling out with guns. 

“Run down there! Go get them!”

They book it into the darkness of the subway, gunfire raining down as soldiers followed behind. He flicks his light on, watching Peter take the lead as they weaved around corners in panic. The gunshots started to slow down, the kid making a beeline into an open area as a large spore wall came into view. 

Tony sucks in a breath, eyes wide as he whips on gasmask with speed. Footsteps loom closer as he follows where the kid went nearly expecting some runner to come clawing at him. He takes a few steps in, eyes trying to find where Peter went to before a hand dragged him down. He gasps, arms ready to punch whatever freak was behind this vending machine. 

“Whoa dude,” Peter whispered dodging his arm. “Just me, just-”

He’s cut short by a soldier. “No target. I repeat no target.”

Radio chattered came through, echoing in the subway. “Understood. Hold your position and wait for reinforcements.” 

_ Of course their calling in reinforcements.  _

Mentally Tony starts cursing to himself when he takes in the kid next to him kneeling there  _ without _ a mask. He does a double-take, now the one gawking at the kid just breathing in fucking spores. 

“How the hell are you breathing in this stuff?” He whispers gobsmacked. 

Peter shakes his head shrugging. “I wasn’t lying to you.” 

He blinks a few times, nodding in agreement like this shit was normal everyday stuff. Just some kid breathing in contagious spores that should be killing him right now but nope he’s just kneeling like its nothing. 

_ Ok, so maybe Maria did have a point.  _

A light shines passed them as they duck, another soldier running up to his friend. “Did you spot them?”

“No. This place is empty.”

They both sigh bodies pressing themselves between two fallen vending machines. Somebody had made this barrier God knows when and Tony couldn’t be more grateful. Together, they finally peek over watching the two soldiers break off in two different directions. They duck down as the one who just ran up comes back their way, light shining from their gun ready to fire. 

In the dim light, Tony slowly makes his way around the fallen machines. He inches forward, still undetected by the soldier. He glances towards the other guy still with his back turned to them and makes his move. His arms go for the chokehold once more, strangling the gasping man until his body fell limp. He drags it back right to where they were and gestures for Peter to move. 

Together they weave their way through covers over to a subway cart as the soldier curses to himself. Their lights stay off, and their movements shadowing the soldier's. They crouch through the fog of the spores waiting for the right moment to strike. The soldier finally turns the light away from them, allowing Tony to quickly cover the distance to strangling him. He comes from behind, arms slowly squeezing the air from the man until he fell limp as well. 

A small silence lingers between them as a frog croaks in the distance. They share a few glances, both on edge and waiting for another round of soldiers. 

“Come on,” He huffs through the mask, sweat dripping from his brow. “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

They walked down the tracks for a bit, walking through abandoned subway carts as other marsh-like creatures thrived down here. They stumble through another cart, end not meeting with tracks but rather deep water instead. Tony only rolls his eyes hoping into the gross water swimming to the next cart before he realized Peter wasn’t behind him. He stopped, turning around only to find the kid standing to the side in a shallow part of the tracks.

“You do realize there’s a shallow bit right?”

Tony huffs, shifting around to see the small path he was walking on and how it led to a tight squeeze between two carts. “Maybe I wanted to go for a swim.”

“Mhmm, sure.”

He scoffed. “Have fun squeezing between the two carts,” He mocked swimming forward. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter muttered giving him the finger. “Have fun trying not to drown.”

Tony doesn’t respond, only instead ducking his head under as he swam to the other side and passed the blockage in the ruined tracks. He comes up for air, gasping as he takes a look at the new area at hand. He pulls himself on a concrete patch, watching the kid squeeze his way passed with his backpack in tow. 

“Stuck?”

“No,” Peter huffed finally making it through. The kid walks forward join him on the bigger slab of concrete. “Much better than swimming in _that.”_

“Well hate to break it to you, kid but your chosen path ends here,” He laughs before hopping back into the water. 

He swims forward a bit, waiting to hear some snarky comment from the kid but was only met with silence. Tony turns, eyes finding Peter in the same spot as before but now fearfully looking into the water. 

“Um,” The kid swallowed nervously. “I can’t swim.”

_ Right, he doesn’t swim.  _

“Just jump in, you’ll float.”

“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

He held back an annoyed groan almost hearing Maria's snarky comments about his attitude. “We’ll figure something out, just wait there.”

“You're not leaving me are you?”

He stopped once more, gripping onto a piece of concrete with guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach. He sighed muttered to himself for being too harsh on the kid before, but to be fair soldiers were trying to _kill_ them. 

“I’m not, Peter.”

“Promise?”

He holds back an eye roll. “I promise.”

“Ok…” The kid nods. “Be careful.”

“Mhmm.”

________

It took some time swimming around, or well mostly diving under things to even see where these tunnels even lead. Half of them were dead ends, with waterlogged supplies and rusted Avenger tags while the others were too deep of a dive. But at the end of him dancing around as Peter watches from afar, Tony settled on a wooden pallet that wasn’t rotted all the way through. Carrying it over, he places in front of the concrete area the kid was standing on. 

“Get on.”

Peter blinked a few times staring at the water and the pallet. “You're joking.”

“Do you want to stay down here then?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then get on the damn pallet.”

The kid sighed, slowly trying to get it way on the pallet without falling into the water. Once he was on, he stayed on his knees barely moving an inch as Tony pushed them forward. Peter's hands gripped the pallet tightly, eyes watching him as they slowly went over to the other side. The pallet hits some green tile, a bright yellow line appearing above. It was another platform but the water didn’t quite reach.

Peter scrambled upward without a moment's notice, limbs a little less gratefully pulling him over as Tony just held onto the pallet dumbfounded. 

_ This kid really hated water.  _

“You going to leave me this time?” He jokes trying to see how he can latch on as the kid did. 

The kid huff, metal scraping along the concrete as a ladder came into view. “No, because I’m not a dick.”

_ That was fair.  _

The ladder was pushed over the side, each step falling under the water until the first three could be seen. Tony smirked, swimming over before climbing his way out of the murky water. Once his feet were on solid ground he shook head and wiped the water droplets off his mask. He hated being soaking wet, there was no fun swimming in green murky water. And yet, here they were trying to avoid soldiers at all costs. 

“Alright,” He huffed against his bag. “Let’s get out of here.”

Peter nodded and follow behind as they came across the red titles they saw before. They turn a corner, a new form of light breaking through. They walk forward a few more steps, eyes landing on the solid steps leading to the outside. 

_ Thank God. _

“Finally,” the kid huffed walking up the stairs. “These spores stink.”

“No shit.”

The moment they finally crawl out of that hell hole, birds start singing. The sun shines down on them, warm rays and heat drying their wet clothes. Tony makes sure he’s a few feet out before taking off his mask, lungs finally taking the biggest breath of fresh air. He settles on tree stump coughing a bit as shakes down his still dripping hair. 

Oh, what he wouldn’t do for a drink right about now.

Peter still stands, both arms resting at his waist biting his nervously. “Hey look, um…” He trailed off head hanging low. “About Maria…”

Tony’s eyes painful shut, the image of her dead body appearing again. He sighs: anger, guilt, and slew of other emotions finally bubbling up from his emotionless void. They weren’t in danger anymore, his brain unable to run from these feelings forever. He sees her glassy eyes and the growing infection on her collarbone, a chunk of flesh that freak bites into on his watch, his slow reaction time. 

She didn’t deserve that, she shouldn’t be dead because of this stupid mission. A slight rage took over inside, other emotions fading in the background as he cursed out the damn Avengers and Hammer for taking their guns in the first place. 

_ They should be at home right now, drinking and enjoying that vacation they been talking about for years. _

The kid finally speaks again, voice wavering. “I don’t even know what to-

Something inside him snapped.

“Here’s how this thing’s gonna play out,” He sneered trying to keep some composure. His gaze finds Peter’s, eyes narrowing. “You don’t bring up Maria,  _ ever. _ ” Tony huffs out a breath, hands shaking for the hundredth Goddamn time today. “Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves.”

Another silence lingers, Peter still biting his lip. Tony doesn’t move only pointing to the kid’s infected arm. 

“Secondly, don’t tell anybody about your condition.” He almost laughs at that thought still trying to wrap his head around it. “They’ll either think you're batshit crazy or they’ll try to kill you.”

“Trust me I know,” He mutters just as snarky.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “And lastly, you do what I say, when I say it. I don’t wanna hear some crappy ass remarks coming from that mouth because of some teenage hormones. We clear?”

The kid rolled his eyes, huffing out a sigh. “Sure.”

“Repeat it,” He bit back. 

The teen glares but holds back a remark. “What you say, goes.”

Tony nods getting up himself. “Good. Now that you're done being snarky, there’s a town a few miles north of here.” He glances down the road and the houses that surround the area, sure it was peaceful but freaks were probably lurking about. They were always around somewhere. “There’s a fella there that owes me some favors and there’s a good chance he could get us a car.”

Peter shuffles forward brushing pass him. “Hopefully he’s less of a dick than you are.” He mutters, kicking a pebble. “Now that would be a sight to see.”

Tony stands there for a few seconds glaring daggers at the back of the kid's head. He bites tongue from saying something, brain telling him to just let it go. He sighs taking a few deep breaths trying to calm the swirling emotions within right now.

The kid cocks his head to side facing him, “You coming, old man?”

“Keep those remarks coming and I’ll drag your ass back to that subway pool.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He scoffed and pressed forward completely tuning out the grumbling kid behind him. He looked ahead at the city ruins, still wet and smelling like a marsh with a miscible sigh.

_ This was going to be a one fucking long journey with a snarky ass kid. _


	7. Then There Were Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally, when Tony decided to pay a visit to Bruce for supply runs, he was either by himself or with Maria. But today, the universe decided that he did, in fact, needed to lug along a rather chatty and snarky teenager that didn’t know how to shut up. In the day that he has known Peter Parker, he’s come to realize that kids, in general, seem to not have an off button. 
> 
> And sure, the threat of soldiers and infected could shut him up just fine. But when you're walking miles on foot in dangerous areas, others in his position would likely hop off a cliff somewhere. So yes, the almost two-day long journey to the capitol building and Bruce’s was shaping rather nicely for the pair who didn’t want to be near each other at all. 
> 
> _The snarky teen and the apparent grumpy grandpa...what could go wrong?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some mentions of blood/gore, guns, and alcohol

Normally, when Tony decided to pay a visit to Bruce for supply runs, he was either by himself or with Maria. But today, the universe decided that he did, in fact, needed to lug along a rather chatty and snarky teenager that didn’t know how to shut up. In the day that he has known Peter Parker, he’s come to realize that kids, in general, seem to not have an off button. 

And sure, the threat of soldiers and infected could shut him up just fine. But when you're walking miles on foot in dangerous areas, others in his position would likely hop off a cliff somewhere. So yes, the almost two-day long journey to the capitol building and Bruce’s was shaping rather nicely for the pair who didn’t want to be near each other at all. 

_ The snarky teen and the apparent grumpy grandpa...what could go wrong? _

They needed a mediator, someone like Maria to break through their stubbornness and steer the conversation away from jabs and rude comments. But Maria was fucking dead now, body still laying in her own pool of blood back at the capital building's entryway. Bullet holes and infected bite galore. 

No one was winning this shitty battle today. 

By the time the sun started to hang a bit low going into the evening hours, Tony was now listening to Peter ramble on about another Star Wars debate he thought he would never hear again. In all his twenty years of the apocalypse, he never heard a kid argue both sides of the age-old tale of ‘ _ Who shot first: Han Solo or Greedo?’  _

“I mean the DVDs I found were kinda shitty and the player didn’t work too well so I could see why people at the academy thought Greedo shot first. The angels were weird and we were trying not to get caught passed lights out. However, from my perspective, I still think-” 

Tony hung head back mouthing the word _why_ to sky wondering if anyone was listening to him and his pain. When he decided to angrily snap at the kid wanting to keep histories to themselves, he never expected to have Peter do a complete one-eighty and talk about other things, _other interests_. He didn’t have to ask him anything, the kid would see a pebble or a shadow and those Bambi brown eyes would light up with another topic. The kid was born for some debate team if they still existed. 

All the man wanted was some silence, but he wasn’t going to get that anytime soon. So instead of listening to long and drawn out sentences, Tony found himself staring at trees, at nature, at anything that didn’t remind him of the fucked up job he did at protecting his sister. Hard to process anything when you're stuck outside a quarantine zone with no vehicle and barely any supplies. 

“-- _Oh my God,_ what if they both shot each other at the same time but Greedo missed.”

Tony only nodded along, lips in a thin line as his gaze shifted to the right. He stopped walking, nearly thanking the universe when the familiar water tower looming overhead. They finally reached the area Bruce was in, it wouldn't be long now. 

The kid stops talking,  _ finally _ but only for a few seconds before he asked. “Why did you stop?”

He points to the tower, already putting one foot over the guardrail. “We’re almost there. It’ll be faster to go through here, now come on.” 

They hop down, feet landing in a peaceful area mostly taken over by wildlife. Tony adjusts his bag, eyes watching Peter marvel at the sight around him. His brow raises, wondering exactly want the kid was interested in. They've been passing trees for miles now, it wasn’t anything new. 

“Man…” The kid’s eyes lit up, taking in the trees and the sunlight breaking through the leaves. 

“What?” He finally questions giving into the boy’s antics. 

“Nothing,” Peter replied walking ahead and down towards a small creek. Birds sang, crickets, and other bugs filled the air as the kid enjoyed all of it. “It’s just...I’ve never seen anything like this that’s all.”

Birds fly overhead, a few landing on a large rock formation. Nothing was disturbed by the bombings or infected, everything was just peaceful, _less terrifying_. Tony chuckled at Peter’s comment, a smile tugging at his lip that he wishes wasn’t showing. The kid had him wrapped around his finger, just barely but he knew he was growing attached. 

“It’s just the woods, Pete.”

“Yeah, but I never left the wall remember? This is just something else entirely. It’s kinda cool.”

He only let out an airy laugh letting the kid marvel ahead of him. Tony thought of his lakehouse back in New York, just out of the city and a place he and Pepper loved to when they went up for business. Both of them loved the house and the land that gave them space from other nosy neighbors. His mind lingered back to ‘Morgan,’ wondering if his kid would have liked at that house if the infected - if the world, _his world,_ didn't crumble into nothing. Maybe, just maybe, he would be sitting on his porch with his wife and kid, sipping lemonade while maybe watching his adopted alpacas roam his land. 

You know, the domestic life that never happened. Just fond what-ifs and false images he wished were true. But not of that was happening, that was twenty years long gone. 

Peter’s laugh draws him out of his gaze as he follows the white crane flying from its spot in the lake. The cloud turns a light shade of pink and a small smile doesn’t dare leave the kid’s face. Tony feels like the Grinch at that moment, heart growing a size bigger as his brain begs him not to get attached. He catches up with kid before they reached the small creek, Pete’s brows furrowed with a question ready to be answered. 

“Why don’t you just take me back to Nat?”

“That bad of traveling partner huh?” He jokes as the kid shutters to say something. Tony only shakes his head fully knowing he wasn’t the best to travel with. Rhodey got sick of him and it was only a matter of time before Maria left him too. “Nat and Steve weren't up to the task to begin with. There was a reason they dropped you off onto us.”

_ Us… _

_ Maria.  _

_ There was no us anymore it was just him.  _

“I-I mean they could be better now.”

His mood sours with the thought of Maria. “Kid, I don’t mean to upset you but you're friend’s chances of survival weren’t too high, to begin with. Steve had a large gash that looked infected and Nat was gushing blood from her side. They’ll be out of the fight for a few days.”

Peter scoffs. “They’re a lot tougher than you think. Nat was like ex-special ops or something and Steve straight out of the military joining the Avengers when the government went down.”

They continued through the foliage, the conversation still pressing on. 

“Oh yeah? Where you hear that?”

“People,” The kid shrugs. “Nat mentioned something about Steve’s background and he snapped back with her taking out a dude with a pair of stilettos. I honestly think they were secret agents or something.”

Tony could only laugh. “Well even if that was the case it wouldn’t really matter. I doubt I could get us back onto the city in one piece. Not after the shitshow that happened today.” He sighs turning back towards the kid. “Trust me, I wish there was another option than dragging you out here.”

“Well on the bright side, I got to see the woods.”

“There’s that.”

The conversation stops there, both of them traveling through the woods in surprising silence. Peter was too wrapped up in the woods to really talk and Tony didn’t mind that much. He was just happy he wasn’t hearing about Star Wars. 

They continue upward and passed a few rabbits that the kid seemed way too excited about. He almost made a comment about catching them for dinner but he actually felt bad even trying to mention it to him. Together they passed by a few more rock clusters, reaching the top of the hill where the water tower stood. A fence hung around, rusted but still standing upward after all these years. 

Tony hops over a log only to have Peter laughing about something again. He turns back, eyes falling on the kid standing in the tall grass as small little lights floated around him. 

“Whoa look,” His face scrunched up in a cute, child-like way. “Fireflies, actually real-life fireflies. I read about them but I never thought…” He trails off laughing as one lands on his nose. “I never thought I would see some.”

“Life outside the wall does have some perks.”

“You have no idea.”

Tony gazes around the small area, eyes wandering to the rust barbed wire sitting on top of the fence. Bruce made damn sure it was hard for people to try and get into his area. Even if he and Maria were on good terms with the guy, he always gave them a hard time actually getting inside.  Luckily, Hill had a supply run not too long ago and made sure to leave a long plank to connect the two vine cover brick buildings as an access point. She still was looking out for them even if she wasn’t here. 

With Peter's child-like wonder still occupied with the fireflies, Tony shuffled over heaving as he places the board against the far building. Dusting his hands off, he whistled to the kid gesturing for him to hop up on some rusted radiator that led to the rooftop. 

“Sorry, lost myself for a second.”

“No big deal,” He shrugged going up first. “I do all the work anyway.”

“You literally just picked up a plank!” The teen huff following suit. 

Tony just laughed walking to the edge of the roof where his board was sitting before noticing a small glint in the sunlight. He stopped, curiously bending down to find a metal pipe with a pair of sharp scissors attached like some sort of ax. Might have been Maria’s work but he didn’t care, a free weapon was a free weapon. Picking the object up, he studies it some offering up to the kid looking at the thing with the same curiosity. 

“You're giving me an actual weapon?” 

His eyes narrowed, scoffing a bit. “Yes smartass, I’m giving you a weapon. Stop looking so surprised and take the damn thing.” 

Peter takes it, right hand swinging its weight around with a mischievous grin. “Sweet.” His brows furrow, eyes already working on an idea. “If we could weld the two together, we could get a longer use out of this makeshift ax. Right now the binding should hold up but it won’t last forever.”

Tony only blinked a few times, surprised by his valid observation. “You know how to weld?”

The kid only shrugs. “Sorta, the Academy was really never taught us how to necessarily build things, just basic survival. But I don’t think it would be too hard.”

_ God, he misses tinkering in his lab.  _

_ His AI, his bots, old comforts he had to leave behind. _

“Well, the hard part is finding something that will melt the two of them together.”

“Sadly.”

He laughed, moving onto pulling the plank upward and placing it on both rooftops. “Shall we?” He huffed walking over as his eyes caught small clouds of smoke coming from the distance. “Making more fires as always Bruce.”

Peter walked up next to him, eyes staring ahead at the town. “Where do you usually met him?”

“Um well, it depends.”

They both hop down now over the fence and taking in the area at hand. Tony would be lying if he said knew this place fully. Sure he’s seen parts, mostly outskirts but never has he traveled into the belly of the beast before. 

“You’ve never been here have you?”

_ The kid was onto him, damnit.  _

“I know he lives here,” He sighs. “But no I never been really inside the area personally, he’s not too trusting.”

“So you think that smoke could be him?”

Tony sighs pressing forward through the tall grass. “Sure as hell better be.”

“Well let’s go check it out then.”

The moment they managed to get down to some old buildings within the town, small clicks lingered from below. The peaceful scene of the woods just a few feet back was long gone at this point, only the threat of constant infected lurking in corners. It didn’t matter that Bruce lived in the area, the man knew how to somehow live with beasts that ended society, to begin with. 

It also didn’t matter that one clicker was chilling in some shed because once his screeching started, two others barreled around the corner at the sudden noise. Guns sure as hell weren’t an option in these parts quite yet, they had to be smart. Peter had his ‘ax’ and somehow he managed to nab a better metal pipe that wasn’t dented. 

_ So yeah, they were doing ok for the most part. _

Reaching an office building, they went through the back entrance traveling up the stairs to a messy office space. Desks were mostly in place, a few draws were left open, papers, and other things were thrown about but for the most part easy to navigate through. Together they search for some basic supplies, gathering what they could before Tony heard loud puffs of air being blown out. He turns confused, his gaze landing on Peter apparently not looking anymore. 

‘What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to whistle,” He sighs pushing his lips together and trying again. 

_ He’s - He’s trying to whistle.  _

_ This fucking kid. _

“You don’t know how to whistle?”

The teen glares, trying again. “Well does it look like I know how to whistle?”

Peter pushes his lips out, the only sound coming is puffs of air. Dust blows off a painting as the kid grows more frustrated with each attempt. Tony just stands there and stares, eyes trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Probably seven minutes ago this kid was spraying a clicker's brain matter across the ground and now he’s just standing there ax in hand look like some child-like dumbass trying to whistle. 

_ And he found this assuming, Tony actually found this-- _

_ Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached.  _

_ He already has.  _

“Fuck, how do you do it so easily,” Pete huffs blowing his messy curls out of his eyes. 

“Uh, I-” He shutters to form a sentence mind trying to snap back to reality. “I don’t know, I just do it?”

“You're no help at all,” He groans trying once more.

“Yeah...uh-huh.”

________

By the time Peter decided to try whistling another time, they were back around tugging on a locked fence. He sighed, cursing Bruce for making every inch of this place so locked tight for no damn reason. For once he wanted a direct path to something, not some puzzle and problem-solving bullshit. 

Tony curses aloud. “It’s jammed from the other side.”

The kid cocks his head to the side, eyes scanning the small break in the barbed wire a few feet up. He then just shrugs and starts scaling things like it’s no big deal. Halfway up, Peter looks back grinning to much of his bewilderment. That fence wasn’t easy to climb up but here he was almost halfway over.

“Jesus, kid what-”

“They call me Spider-Man for a reason.”

“Uh-huh and that’s not natural.”

“And you're just old.” Peter huffed arms pulling him over the yellow-painted slab of wood. He swung over the side hanging there for a few seconds before dropping to the ground. Sticking the landing, he fumbled with some bar in the handles pulling it free as the fence gate open. “Ta-da, Peter Parkour has done it again.”

Tony just stops and desperately tries to hide a stupid grin. This damn kid and his fucking puns that were so corny. He just pressed forward, trying to stay alert about potential dangers but the kid was just acting too stupidly adorable. 

_ Fuck, he was growing attached way too quickly.  _

Peter hums a tune to himself, legs finally catching up to him as he surveys the area. “So, if this friend of yours gets us a car then what?”

“We uh,” He moves forward a few more steps, taking in the mostly barren area that seemed free of infected. Tony wasn’t quick to relax, he knew too well that a patch of freaks could be waiting in some building or some alleyway. “I guess we go find Rhodey.”

They enter a garden space, overgrown and nothing else but tall grass taking over the soil. Old gardening supplies sit by the wayside, rusted and broken with no real use anymore mixing in with the other leftover pots. 

“Nat said he was your brother.”

“Not biologically,” He sighed mind already lingering to the day they parted ways. They didn’t leave on bad terms per se but things were left sour and broken. “We met back in college and been brothers ever since. But that doesn’t really matter..." They were keeping histories to themselves. "What matters is the fact that he was an Avenger, he would know where to take you.”

“Oh, I guess you two were-”

“He lives far from here,” Tony interrupted eyes not daring to look back at the kid. He didn’t really want to think about Rhodey too much, especially not after the day he had. “Which why we need a car.”

They fell into an awkward silence, the crickets filling space with noise as the sky turned bright orange. Together they shuffled around the garden area: Peter fixing his ax with better scissors and him crafting a few shivs for backup. When the space in all was checked, they started to head out, as the kid’s eyes honed in on something else. 

Peter studies the small area in which a fairy fountain stood mostly intact. He laughed, kneeling down to pick up one of the smaller figures covered by the grass.  “Hey look, gnomes.”

“Yeah,” He didn't know how to respond, only grateful that the conversation was shifting away from Rhodey. “Those are gnomes.”

“I use to have this art book filled with these. I always thought they were so cute as a kid but no fairies though, those drawings creeped me out.” 

“Good to know.”

They walked further into town, parts of streets and other buildings taken by the large mass of foliage. Some of the blockades seemed deliberate like someone dragged other random things to block the area in some more. Bruce was meticulous about this place, at least that what Hill told him. 

Most of the places they checked were pretty barren, no freaks lurking about and nothing to make the kid start another conversation again. The next fifteen minutes were spent mostly in silence, a weird tension between that Tony didn’t know how to break. That tension continues until they stumbled into a small cafe, sporting a dusty arcade game he didn’t know. 

It was called the ‘Turning,’ cheesy animated zombies and blood detailed all over the console that made it even more ironic. The world ends and this machine depicting exactly that is still sitting here waiting for someone to play it.  Obviously the moment he even touched the console, Peter was already flocking to the damn thing before he even said a word. There was a small excitement in his eyes, a fond smile sitting on his eyes like he was remembering something.

“Look at you,” The boy whispered amazed.

“What, you play this before?”

“No,” He shook his head sadly. “I had a friend that knew everything about this game. The main character had some move where she punches a hole through your stomach before kicking your head off.”

Tony paid more attention to the kid's face, the sad look that was breaking through. This friends was spoken in past tense and he had a pretty good idea what probably happened. He wanted to push, but he knew the rules he set earlier. They kept their histories to themselves, it was just easier on him.

_ But that didn’t mean he liked it.  _

“I wasn’t much a fan of these,” He tried to shrug it off, to move on.

“I just wish-” The rest of the sentence dies on the kid’s tongue. He sighs rocking on the back of his heels before turning away from the machine. “We should move on yeah?”

The kid walks towards the door without an answer, not wanting to be here anymore. Tony stared, lingering for a few moments before they pressed on. 

_ Maybe the kid had more tragic memories than he thought.  _

________

They travel around a bit; coming in and out of buildings, taking alleyways as they explore what was left of the town. Nothing was left to see, mostly the remains of people just up and leaving for quarantine zones when they first established. Bruce’s blockades littered around, rusted car parts and other objects directing a certain flow into buildings. 

Truth be told, Tony didn’t know where the guy could be hiding that was until they stumbled into a record shop trying to get a basic layout of the town. There as the kid sobered up his spirits looking at records, he found a note mention something about a church safehouse. Sure it wasn’t much to go off, but it was a start. 

Thus, ending in the both of them trying to travel through an alleyway only to have a clicker barreling around the corner. The freak didn't get too far, its body blown sky-high by some explosion spraying its insides everywhere. Blood splattered across the pavement, ground shaking as a puff of smoke blew upward. Tony stumbled back, heart racing from the near jump scare of the clicker and explosion. 

_ Damnit, Bruce.  _

“Whoa,” Peter gawked taking a step back. “ _What the fuck was that?!”_

“That…” His heart was still pounding in his chest, goosebumps forming on his arms. “Would be one of Bruce’s traps.” 

They turn the corner into a backlot, dented cars, and other clicker remains littering the place. Tony only sighed, body running on adrenaline as he prepares himself to have an onslaught of freaks flocking their way to them. That smoke cloud he saw early had to be from on Bruce’s traps, set off by a damn clicker getting too close. 

The kid matched the same shocked expression he had. “Your friend a bit paranoid, maybe?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” He huffed gazing over the amount of black ash that covered the brick walls. 

“What’s the deal with this guy?”

“Well, that's a bit of a long story,” He muttered walking up a few sets of stairs trying to open a locked door. He sighed once more, breaking out a shiv to pry open the door. “He helped us smuggle stuff into the city.” Tony plays with the shiv and lock. “He’s just a guy that knows how to find things.”

“Let’s hope we don’t blow up trying to find him.”

“Just watch your step,” The door finally opens into a trashed building littered with debris and trash. “You’ll be fine.”

Peter only shot him a questionable look as they work their way through the building into another back alleyway that wasn’t blocked by shit. They passed some more traps, thin metal wires reflecting the sunset. Some contraption was held against the walls, explosives ready to fire once a freak stupidly walked into it. A perfect way to block out infected but not so people-friendly. 

The alleyway they walk down is littered with more bodies, some exploded while others have multiple arrowheads sticking out of them. Tony in end takes the arrows with them, fully knowing he could make some sort a bow with the right materials if he had the chance. And just by the looks of it, this town had just the stuff he needed.

Passing by a ‘NO TRESPASSERS’ sign spray-painted onto the bricks, they climbed over more barbed wire and onto a large storage container. There stood a lookout spot with empty beer bottles scattered about. A chair with stained red cushions looked towards the way they just came, a bow laying right behind it for the taking. 

“Now we’re talking,” He grinned testing the strength and the overall feel. “Not too bad.”

The kid spoke up. “You know how to shoot that?”

“Yeah, smartass I do.”

“And so do I,” Peter mocked holding out a hand. “Let me have that, I'm pretty good spot with that thing.”

“Nah, I rather hold onto this myself.”

“The whole part of a team is to make sure each person has a good share of weapons. You know, to cover each other?”

_ A team -- did he just call themselves a team? _

_ And why did he like the sound of that? _

_ Damnit, Stark don’t get attached.  _

“Did I not give you that makeshift ax? Quit complaining and let's get a move on.”

“Whatever,” He huffed in his teenager moody way.

Crossing planks of wood that connected with different rooftops, they made their way over alleys. From here they had a better look at the town, but that only showed just how big the area was. The church building was finally in sight but a decent way away filled with traps and possible infected. And not a moment too soon, they stumble upon other clicker standing there breathing heavily like the creepy creature it was. 

Tony aims his arrow, firing quicking as the freak went down with a screech. He smirked at Peter hopping down to the lower roof to retrieve the arrow he just fired. He had a feeling there were more around to waste arrows on one simple kill. With the kid now beside him and the church looming up ahead, he decides to give Pete another fair warning about Bruce. 

“Now listen, Bruce ain’t exactly the most stable of individuals.” He gives him another warning, eyes pleading with him to listen. “So when we get there you let me do the talking. Ok?”

The kid sighs. “I could tell by the bombs that he wasn’t much of a people person.”

Tony hummed in agreement. “We gotta be clear on this, he doesn’t take kindly to strangers. Bruce’s a good guy, he just needs some time to warm up to you that’s all.”

“Mhmm.”

Together they take a latter back down another section of the alleyway, mindful of the thin wires around every corner. They rounded another corner, heading into a building where a loud banging came from. Even if the kid wanted to go around, Bruce may it impossible so they went: flashlights on and leading them through the dark rooms. 

The building was an old house, a time capsule on the initial panic people had been being evacuated. The kitchen was turned upside down, drawers, and cabinets left open. The bedroom had a mess of clothes still sitting in the closet, some heaps lying on the bed as only the most important things were taken. Another pair of feet shuffled in the other room beside them, an infected runner trying to gun Peter before getting a face full of rusty scissors. 

“Jesus,” He exclaimed. “The fucking thing almost gave me a heart attack.”

Tony only nodded as the kid ramble on, eyes catching a note placed on the coffee table. 

“Aw come on, they’re stuck in his-”

He stopped listening once he started reading the contents of the letter. 

_ Rachel, _

_ Soldiers are going door to door forcing people onto the buses. I hear yelling a couple of buildings down - time's running out. I tried calling, waiting, I don't know what to do, but I can't wait anymore. I've thrown most of our stuff into a couple of suitcases. I'll be waiting for you in the quarantine zone. Come find me. _

_ I'll see you soon! _

_ -Erza _

Tony's mind lingers back to Pepper and their initial panic of the outbreak. They didn’t have time to pack a bag, to pack any belongings except what they were wearing. The necklace holding the two wedding rings felt like a weight, past trauma covering to the surface. He drew in a shaky breath, mind not daring to go back to that parking lot twenty years ago. 

_ Pepper. _

_ Maria. _

_ Rhodey. _

_ God, he needed a fucking break. _

_ And a drink. _

He shut his eyes painfully, opening them once the note was crumpled up and thrown on the floor. Tony sighed, gaze falling back onto the kid muttering to himself as he fixed the scissors back around the metal pipe. 

_ Good the kid didn’t see his almost mental breakdown. _

“C’mon kid, let’s get the hell out of here.”

________

Note and almost mental breakdown aside, they returned to the alley tripping one of Bruce’s traps to move into the next area. Peter, _being well Peter_ laughed at the act but Tony could only think about how much he needed a drink to drown his demons away. His mind kept popping up, kept telling him what he didn’t do for the people he cared about. He was growing sick of it, but more importantly this damn maze his friend made of this fucking town. 

Tony huffs his way into the back entrance of another building, a small garage with nothing really to take. The kid was right behind him, looking around as he began opening the next door into what he thought was a warehouse. He stops halfway through the door frame, ears picking up a mechanical clicking noise as his eyes just land on a fridge hoisted in the air.

“What the fu-” Were the only words Tony could get out before the fridge sudden drop, rope around his foot taking him upward. 

_“Mr. Stark!”_ Peter cried out as the warehouse echoed the loud drop of the fridge. 

He heaved, body whiplashed as the blood rushed down to his head. The room shifted, head now hanging above the dirty floor as his ankles dangled in the air. Metal in the building creaked, his body swaying back and forth like a swing. He cursed, headache already growing from the blood rushing downward.

“Goddammit, Bruce.”

“I got you,” Peter said rushing over to catch his swinging body. His necklace fell forward, rings exposed in the sunlight. The kid finally grabbed onto his shirt, stopping him and leaving his body to hang there. “What just happened?!

“One of Bruce’s fucking traps!” He huffed, frustration pouring off of him. 

He did not need this shit today, not after everything that happened. Soldiers nearly got them twice, Maria is fucking dead, he now has to care for some moody teenager, _what else could possibly go fucking wrong._

“Just — that fridge,” He heaves trying not to sway all over the place. “It looks like that’s the counterweight.”

The kid glanced over to the fridge, legs already taking him towards the object. He quickly pushed a table over, limbs pulling himself on top to where the rope was attached to.

“Cut the rope and it’ll bring me down!”

“On it!”

Breathing heavily, he watched the kid work away on cutting the rope. His body swayed again, inching to one side than the other as his limbs hung there helpless. He gazed around the warehouse, panic gripping his lungs half expecting freaks to come running at him. Tony tries to calm himself before he hears a loud crash of glass followed by a snarl. He heaves cranking his neck as runner appeared in distance followed by more screeches and growls. 

_ “Mr. Stark?!” _

_ Oh fuck, they found them.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments! Means a lot <3


	8. The Other Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twenty-four hours ago if someone would have asked Tony where he would be right now, he would laugh and probably mention something about alcohol. He certainly, by no means would have every thought his ass would be hanging from the ceiling, blood rushing to his head as infected echoed in the distance. 
> 
> But here he was.
> 
> Hanging upside down, helplessly staring at the kid trying to cut him loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence/gore, death, guns, and alcohol
> 
> Sorry for the late posting! I fell asleep thinking I queued this chapter lmao 😅

Twenty-four hours ago if someone would have asked Tony where he would be right now, he would laugh and probably mention something about alcohol. He certainly, by no means would have every thought his ass would be hanging from the ceiling, blood rushing to his head as infected echoed in the distance. 

But here he was.

Hanging upside down, helplessly staring at the kid trying to cut him loose.

_ Fuck Bruce and his stupid traps.  _

The first runner finally came out of the woodwork, injured leg stopping the damn thing from sprinting at full force. Tony only let out a panicked breath, pistol sliding into his hand as he tried to aim at a moving target. His body swayed with the rope as his gun fired, his normal steady aim becoming something of an amateur. 

The freak came closer, this time inches away as he fired his last round into its head. It snarls on last time, blood spattering as its legs crumble to the floor. He heaves, body still rocking back and forth. A few more screeches loom closer, figures attracted to the loud sounds

_ “You ok?!” _

“Just tend to the fucking rope!”

Dead and painful gasps come from more runners, undead forms limping their way towards their next meal. Tony glanced at the two large doorways, clusters of different figures approaching. He curses loudly, shaking hands changing ammo before he mindlessly fired off at the running figures. The freaks snarled and growled, two figures approaching with the same forms of hungry fury. 

The closest runner goes down first, blood and brain matter splattering onto his face as the other one took two bullets to the chest. The runner jerks erratically, gurgling and picking up its speed as it closed the gap between them. It lunges, cold and clammy fingers gripping onto his shoulders trying to pull his face closer. He heaves with panic, his own hands shoving its snarling and bloody mouth away from his neck. 

They struggle for a few more moments, Tony gasping and shoving the freak from biting any parts of him. With on final shove, he gets the upper hand, gun firing straight into the freaks eye as it drops to the floor with a thud. A pool of blood forms beneath him, remaining cold dead eye staring right back up at him. 

“Fuck,” Panic still grips his lungs, air trying to get in. His head pounds, blood still rushing to his head. _“Fuck, Fuck.”_

A clicker, jerks around the center of the room erratically. Head twitching to each side listening to both sounds coming from him and Peter. Tony fires again, eyes watching the surging freak coming at him as two more shots take it down. There’s a pause in the attacks, more figures appearing by some barbed wire clawing their way over and through. 

“Any time Peter!”

“Agh,” The kid huffed now standing on the top of the fridge yanking at the rope. “I need a bit more time! These knots are complicated!” Peter starts tipping the fridge with his weight, metal creaking as the whole thing sudden tips over knocking the kid clean off. _“Fuck!”_

Tony’s body gets yanked higher in the air, rope almost acting like a bungee as the rope tightens. Peter lays against some broken pallets of wood, all caving in from under him as he heaves in pain. 

“You alright!?” He calls out eyes shifting from the kid and the freaks outside.

_ Shit.  _

_ Shit.  _

The kid pops up, slightly dazed and covered in sawdust. “Yeah!”

“Come on, you can do it!”

Peter stumbles over again, knife in hand as he begins sawing through the thick rope once more. Tony changes guns, ammo at the ready as more freaks come their way. The kid only grows more panicked, other infected now focusing on the closer target. Another battle ensues, the poor kid shifting from cutting the damn rope to hacking clickers that pounce through the doors with a fury. Tony fires as much as he can, taking out runners and clickers who dared snarled near the kid. 

_The kid he promised Maria to protect._

It was an intense few minutes, bodies hitting the floor as the bloodshed grew. More figures outside began to grow, desperate freaks hungry for their next meal. Peter curses loudly once more, ax hacking a clicker before jamming the knife back into the rope. He saws for a few more moments until there's a sudden mechanical clicking noise echoing throughout. The rope gives out, his body in free fall as Tony hits the ground with a hard thud. 

He rolls off the dead freak from under him, body protesting as he tries to stand up. His vision blurs slightly, ears ringing as another snarl comes closer. 

He’s barely on his knees when he hears. “Look out!”

A runner crashes full force into him, heavier set dude opening his mouth wide trying to take a bite out of him. Tony heaves as he struggles to keep the freak away, its erratic body hard to control when he was flat on his back with no leverage. It’s dead eyes glared down at him, mouth practically foaming at the chance of a new meal. 

The runner arcs its body up, its free hand trying to pull Tony towards him before a machete jams into its spore face. Blood splatters down, snarling beast gurgling as it’s head is chopped clean off. The head falls into his lap blood covering his pants as he roughly tosses the gushing thing to the side. Panic pumps through him, eyes finally noticing the figure above him. 

_ Bruce.  _

His friend in a gas mask glares down at him, tactical gear covering him from head to toe. His long brown hair now sporting a few more grays, is matted and bloody, slicked back from his face. 

“Get off your ass and on your feet.”

Bruce tugs him upward, his feet barely touching the ground as the kid runs over confused and shocked. Peter goes to say something but is shoved out of the way by Bruce, who in turn curses at them to follow him. They both sprint, blood-covered and out of breath but more importantly alive. 

They're lead out through one of the side doors, panicked gazes watching the crazy man slam the heavy metal door shut as freaks slam against it. Two moving trucks block an area with barbed wire, infected of all stages screeching as they try and break through the barriers. 

Bruce fires at freaks, more piling over than he can shoot. “ _Ah, Goddammit._ Get back! Back!”

Tony stumbles back, glaring at another dead end set up by his friend. “Which way?!”

“We’ll ah…” The man trails off firing a few more rounds. “We’ll cut through -- just c’mon, here!” He runs passed them yelling broken sentences own panic breaking through. 

He leads them down an alley same as the others they found, bricks and mostly vined covered. Except for this time they had a clusterfuck of infected chasing after them. They reach another fence as his friend fumbles through his the mass of keys on his key ring to find right one. 

Peter turns ax well now, a metal pipe at the ready. “Guys, behind us!”

“Bruce!” He yells firing two more shots. 

The door slams open, all three of them bursting through into laundromat as the infected pile around the other side. The freaks bust inside all desperately trying to overwhelm them with the same fury as before. Mindlessly they followed their scent, the very image of a meal they could get their cold dead fingers into.

“They’re coming through!”

“Take them out! That’s our only way through!” Bruce yells already firing a few more rounds. 

_ Of fucking course it is. _

“Peter stay the fuck back!” Parental instinct takes over once more, his own heart nearly beating out of his own rib cage. 

The next two minutes is an all-out brawl of machetes and metal pipes whacking their way through the horde of runners trying to grab them. The kid chucks a few bricks their way, more bodies hitting the floor as they once again ran outside following Bruce blindly through the chaos.  The man charges at the runner, machete stabbing through the freaks head in a second flat. They continue running, bodies climbing through a storage truck as more freaks climb over the wire, some leaving their rotted body parts behind. Tony pushes Peter in before him, the group making a short trip back into the alleyway with another door wide open. 

Bruce fires behind them. “It’s open, go!”

He drags the kid inside, his friend out running a clicker as they slam the door shut. All three of them press against the door as the freaks pound from the outside, painful and loud screeches echoing in. 

Bruce finally locks the damn door, the whole group breathing heavy. The kid backs away, hands resting on his knees, slightly pale as he tries to calm his own breathing. Tony only leans against the door, lungs burning and fear still pumping through him. His crazy-ass friend doesn’t say a word, only looking at the two of them with his mask still on. 

Peter’s the first to talk, infected still lingering outside. “Man, that was...close.” He takes another few deep breaths as his friend walks over to him. “Uh...thanks for the heroics and all.” 

He finally takes off his mask, stubble of a forming beard sitting on his face as a bruise sits on his right cheek. Bruce stares at the kid for a few more moments, probably pissed and untrusting of a newcomer. 

The kid not picking up on this offers his hand out. “I’m Peter.”

Bruce doesn’t respond, he only grows more agitated as he takes the kid’s extended hand and handcuffs it. He mutters something under his breath, body yanking Peter to a nearby pipe to chain him too as the kid calls out to Tony. 

“Mr. Stark--?”

“Hey, Banner what-”

His friend whips around with his gun drawn, a crazy look in his eyes. “Turn around and get on your knees.” 

_ Ok, so he was pissed.  _

_ Shit. _

“Let’s just calm down for a second.”

“Turn around—!”

“Alright—!”

“Get on your fucking knees!” Bruce kicks the back of his kneecap causing him to drop to the ground. Tony huffed, body aching in protest from what this day already through at him. “Don’t fucking test me, Stark.”

Banner continued to handle him roughly, hands patting down frantically. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, voice low muttering something he couldn’t quite pick up. Behind them, Peter was cursing at the man, handcuffs clanging as he struggled with them. 

“Just take it easy.”

Ignoring Tony’s comments and the kid trying to free himself; his friend moves around in front of him, eyes staring at his face a little too closely. “You got any bites?”

“No-”

“Anything spouting?”

“Goddamnit,” He shrugs Bruce’s arms off growing frustrated. “I’m fucking clean.”

“I see so much of a twitch —  _ fuck!” _

Tony’s body shifts as Banner stumbled to the side, breathing heavily and holding onto his arm. His gaze finds Peter now free using the pipe he was stuck to as a weapon to attack. The kid swings once more, pipe trying to hit his friend when he stepped in. 

“Stop!” He yanked the pipe out of the kid’s hands, pushing him back gently to give them distance. 

“Son of a bitch!”

“You done?”

_ He was getting fed up with these games right about now.  _

“Am I done…?” Bruce lets out an airy laugh, still quite pissed. His voice booms across the room, heavy breathing coming from his nose. “You come into my house. You set off all my traps. And you-” His gaze finds Peter’s as he tries to walk over to kid only to be held back by Tony. “Little fucking brat almost break my shooting arm.”

Even held back, his friend inches closer. 

“Who the fuck is this punk and he’s doing here?”

The kid was seething behind him, matching the distance and coming up close. “I am none of your goddamn business.” He shoves Tony out of the way, poking a finger at the man's chest. “And we’re here because you owe Mr. Stark some favors.”

Banner only scoffed in return earning another angry glare as the conversation got heated. 

“And you can start by taking these fucking things off!” The kid waves the handcuffs in air shoving them in his face. 

He only laughs again. “I owe Stark some favors. Is this some fucking joke?”

Tony silently tells Peter to cool off, nudging the kid a good foot away as his friend behind him started sharpening his blade on the messy table. The tension was thick in the room, both parties clearly pissed and trying to move on from this situation. 

“I’ll cut to the chase,” He tries. “I need a car.”

“Well it is a joke, Starky boy needs a car.”

He bitterly sighs, trying his best to keep his ego in check but Bruce just carried on. 

“Well, if I had one that works which I sure as well don’t. What makes you think I’d just give it to you?”

“Bruce-”

He only gets interrupted with a scoff. “Oh yeah, sure Tony. Go ahead, take my car, take all my food while you're at it.”

Peter comes back into the conversation, snarky teenager comments coming in full force. “By the looks of it, you could lose some of that food.”

_ Oh, this kid was gonna kill him. _

Banner’s quick to raise his blade towards the kid. “You listen to me, you little shit-”

“No, fuck you! You handcuffed me-”

Tony grabs the kid by the shoulders and walks him a good two feet back towards the wall. He sighs placing a hand over the kid's mouth as he tries to protests. 

“I need you to shut up.”

Peter only rolls his eyes, huffing before walking away himself. He shoots them another glare, not saying another word. He turns back to Bruce still working on his blade, angrily sharpening away as the sparks fly out. The tension grows, both men not speaking for another few minutes. 

“Whatever favors you think I own you, it’s not worth that much.”

He takes a deep breath, frustration leaving his tone. “Trust me Bruce they are.”

Another heavy silence ticks by, Bruce himself starting to calm himself down. He stops sharpening his blade, smacking his lips together with a sigh. He looks tired, a little worse for wear than the last time he and Maria saw him. His hair was longer and he gained a bit of weight but he mostly seemed down, gloomy. 

He finally spoke again in a collected voice. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t have a car that works.”

“But there has to be one in this town.”

“Parts, Tony. There are parts in this town.”

“All I hear is that means we could fix one up.”

Banner ponders a moment, blade place to side with another sigh. He rubs his stubble, arms then clearing the junk off his work table to reveal a map of the town. The map was old and had an array of stains on it, red and green markers indicating certain areas of the town as a whole. His finger stops on one point of the map, Peter finally walking over less snarky. 

“If we’re going to do this, we need some gear. And that’s on the other side of town.” He points some more a mostly red area. “You help me go gather it, and maybe _just maybe_ we can put something together that runs.” 

Finally, he reaches in his back pocket, hand slamming down handcuff keys. His eyes go stern, finger pointing at the both of them. 

“After this, I owe you nothing.”

“That’s fair,” Tony said taking the keys and unhooking the kid. “Couple days from now we’ll probably be dead anyway.”

Peter shot him a shocked look but he shrugged it off. This was a long-ass day, and he still had to go back out there to find car parts. 

_ The universe needs to give him a fucking break.  _

“Good,” Banner just nods like that comment wasn’t uncommon. “Follow me, the whole town is booby-trapped. Best to stay right on my ass.”

The kid waited a good five seconds for Bruce to be out of earshot before uttering. “I take it back, he’s a bigger dick than you.”

He bit his lip hard trying to stop a smirk dragging the kid along. “Knock it off.”

________

After dissolving some of the tension among the group, together they traveled through a rundown apartment complex grabbing what supplies they could find. Nothing was stuck out there, just a bunch of initial panicked evacuation scenes as before but with more decay this time. Banner had picked through this a long time ago, his notes and reminders littered about the place detailing what was happening around town. The infected piling over fences, hunters trying to get close, just the common stuff everyone outside zones faced. 

When they finally make it to another makeshift rooftop escape Bruce finally speaks up. “So what kind of trouble are you in? And more importantly where the hell is Maria?”

Tony tenses at that comment, mouth going dry and eyes glassy. He waited a few moments to respond, taking a few breaths as the kid himself looked a bit somber. Their eyes met for a second, their other party member not realizing the subtle glances. 

“Uh, it’s a job. Simple drop off this time.”

_ Lies.  _

_ Banner would shoot them both dead if found out Pete was infected. _

“What are you delivering?” He asks, turning back around when it finally clicks. “Oh, the little brat?”

Peter scoffs, snarky coming back. “Haha. Fuck you too.”

Unlike before that earns a genuine laugh out of Bruce, an actual smile appearing for a few seconds. “My other safe-house shouldn’t be too far. It more of an armory, technically.” 

“An armory?”

“Listen, kid, you don’t just live in a town like this without a shit ton of protection. Besides, where we are going, we need the firepower.”

Tony perked up at that comment. “How so?”

“As I said, what we need is on the other side of town. And that shitshow I never go towards because it’s filled with infected. Hence, more guns.”

_ This day was just full of surprises.  _

“That’s great.”

“Never said it was an easy task.”

They pressed on through another building, this time going down a few sets of stairs into the basement area. Trash and debris littered the floors, back way leading into some sort of kitchen when a painful snarl echoed into the room. 

“Shh,” He was quick to stop Peter as glass clang to the ground. “There’s one inside.”

“Oh…” Banner just shrugged it off walking forward. “Been meaning to take care of that. Relax, its nothing.”

They walk out of the kitchen into a trashed bakery as the snarls got loudly. Glass from display cases were scattered across the floors, wooden tables and counters broken and hanging. They walked a few more steps in, the snarling figure or well half of a freak chilling in the corner unmoving. 

Still unbothered by the gurgling freak, Bruce turns to him again. “You didn’t answer my question about Maria. I mean, I thought the two of you were inseparable.” 

_ We were. _

_ Then she fucking died. _

“She’s busy.”

“Yeah sure,” His friend walks towards the freak with his blade laughing. “Busy.”

_ Your fault, your fault- _

Tony comes closer, eyes finally landing on the infected runner half impaled through the glass window. Its arms try to move, head arching up with glass embedded in its face. It didn’t react in pain, only the desperate need for a meal taking over any through process the thing used to have. It didn't care what happens to its body, only that it could eat. The freak snarls once more as Banner goes for the kill.

“Sounds to-,” He heaves as his blade gets stuck halfway through its neck. The freak gurgled once more, the blade coming free as he goes for another swing. The head comes clean off, crimson blood gushing onto the tile floors. The body falls limp, head rolling to the side. “Its sound to me like there might be some trouble in paradise.”

_ He’s not wrong.  _

“Something like that.”

Peter’s face pales, lips drawn in a thin line as the red pool grows. “Gross.”

Bruce leads them back out to the main stretch of the town, decomposing body hanging out a car window welcoming them. Tony shakes his head, almost reading it as a bad omen pressing forward. To him, this was probably the universe giving him the finger, a constant reminder of his past fuck ups. 

A quick jaunt across the street and they arrive at the back gate of the church. It's stained glass windows reflect the sunlight, still giving the decaying structure some rare form of beauty. Besides the colored hues, infected still linger about - their impact on the world still a lingering remainder. Two infected bodies lay in the distance, remains of explosives littered throughout. Banner barely notices the bodies, locking the gate behind them and walking through the mounds of black ash.

“You know,” He begins taking a look around. “You picked a hell of a place to hole up in, huh?”

“Eh, it’s not too bad.” His friend shrugs again. “As horrible as these things are, at least they’re predictable. It’s the normal people that scare me. You of all people should understand that.”

The kid scrunches his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

_ Twenty years of fuck ups.  _

“Nothing, let’s just head to this armory.”

“Through the cellar it’s open.” 

Another jaunt up a few stairs, Tony reaches the cellar doors opening them as they creak. Cobwebs hang, splintered wood barely keeping the door in place. He lets the others down first, eyes scanning his surroundings once more before heading into space below. Ignoring the musky smell, he takes in the vast space of the cellar and the hordes of objects lining the shelves. Peter being Peter, is already off glancing around the room getting into things that weren't his.  He hangs back with Bruce, watching the man with a smirk as he tries desperately not to spaz out on the kid. 

“Don’t touch anything,” He huffs turning on an oil lit lamp for better lit. “We came here for gear, not social hour.”

Peter scoffs, feet already taking him to stash of guns laid out on one of the tables. Quickly, a little bit too quickly, Tony stops the kid in his tracks not wanting him anywhere near them. 

“No, no,” Were the only words he could mutter out.

It was stupid really, weird parental instincts kicking in high gear as the kid stares. Peter was just a kid, he shouldn’t have to worry about shooting and killing things. Just the image of the kid holding a gun made his stomach turn, he didn't want that for him. However, in his world, in this twisted image of what society used to be, he may just have to give in eventually. 

But today was not that day.

_ He’s not your kid. _

_ Not your- _

“I need a gun.”

“No, you don’t” He snaps back. 

The kid didn’t back down, brown eyes staring back up at him narrowing in frustration. Dried blood caked the side of his right cheek that wasn't his only to cause Tony's brain to reel. His fingers twitch, hand desperately wanting to wipe the blood off Peter, to shield him from dangers he brought him into. But he stood firm, hands clenched into a tight fist.

“Ton-Mr. Stark, I can handle myself.”

_ “No.” _

“Why not?”

“Because-” He sighs fully knowing his reasoning was stupid. The image of the kid holding a gun didn’t sit right with him. “Just stay here.”

Peter rolls his eyes, frustration fuming off of him. “Whatever, I’ll just wait around until you two get me killed.”

_ Don’t give the universe any more ideas. _

With the kid pouting somewhere in the room, Tony walks back to Bruce fiddling with ammo. He sighs, drumming his fingers along the wooden tabletop watching his friend grab a gun for him. Staring through the scope, his eyes linger back to the kid almost guilty. His brow furrow, lips drawn tight as he turns to his friend.

“This goes on the record as one of the worst jobs you’ve ever taken.”

He sighs conflicted. “It’s up there.”

“Then how the hell was Maria okay with this suicide mission?”

_ Stop, bringing her up. _

_ Please.  _

“It was her idea.”

She always had the good of others placed before hers. No matter how much she was a hardass, she still managed to look out for the little guy. 

Banner places a metal pail of ammo on the table. “Well, Hill is not as smart as I thought she was. But whatever, it's her loss.” He begins loading the gun up with ammo, gaze falling back to the kid. “Seriously man, you gotta take the kid back where you got him from.”

“Can’t really do that, Bruce.” 

“Let me enlighten you then,” He sighs as Tony took a seat on the table. “Once upon a time, I had somebody that I cared about, _a partner_. And in this world, that type of thing only meant one thing. Getting you killed.” 

His friend pauses, grabbing another gun from the side. He fixes his hair behind his ears, patting his shoulder. 

“So you know what I ended up doing? Wised the fuck up and realized it just has to be me.”

_ So some things have changed.  _

“It’s not…” Tony trails off unsure what to say. “It's not like that.”

Banner scoffs, “You know damn well --  _ Hey!”  _

He turns to the shuffling of papers, brow raise wondering what the hell the kid had gotten himself into. A few feet away, Peter stood in the corner sheepishly retracting his hands off a stack of magazines and other collections of comics.

“What did I say about touching things?!”

The kid raises his hands up with a huff. “I was just fixing your stupid pile.” 

“ _ Don’t touch.” _

Peter sticks his tongue out, flipping Bruce off before sulking to somewhere else.

“You keep babysitting this brat long enough and it’s gonna blow up in your face.” 

_ It kinda already has. _

Banner still not trusting the kid moves towards the center of the room, keeping a watchful eye on the boy. Under the intense glare of the man, Peter huffs down into a chair, eyes narrowed and muttering something under his breath. Tony watching this unfold, decides to take a look around, taking in the small number of guns, ammo, and other assortments of weapons. All three of them let the silence linger into the room, tension still there from their first encounter. 

When Tony finally makes it to the center table, he notices a tin can assorted with an array of nails and other sharp objects. He picks the object up curiously, recognizing the contraption quickly. 

“You finally decided to use my nail bomb idea?”

Bruce gave him a look. “You mean I improve your idea. This baby shreds anybody nearby and will be very helpful on that side of town.” 

“So you guys have shotguns and bombs,” Peter said now fixing ax back up. “What the hell are we going up against?”

_ Still mad about the gun, noted.  _

Banner starts messing around with more components of another nail bomb. Fingers tying and taping an assortment of nails and sharp objects within the can. 

“Well, every few weeks this military caravan rides town looking for what I assume is supplies. And a few months back, these idiots were rolling through when they got overrun by a horde of infected. These freaks were all over the truck when they plow right into the high school. It’s still sitting there waiting for the taking.”

“So we take that battery and we put it in another car.”

Tony has an odd proud feeling that washes over him when Peter figures it out so quickly. 

His friend looks briefly impressed. “Bingo. I wanted to get it but with the infected on that side of town, it seemed too dangerous but ah fuck it, Tony needs a car.”

“There’s a reason why I came to you.” 

________

Now equipped with better weapons, the group makes their way through the upper rooms of the church, using the front window to get to the front yard. They pause at the bodies of infected Banner piled up, watching as the man kicks a clicker before moving on. The decaying forms stare into his soul, an unnerving chill running down his spine. Tony tries to usher Peter away, somehow trying to shield his young eyes from the sight.

The kid just looks at him, eyes still on the other bodies. “Trust me,” His voice sounds much older than he looked. “I’ve seen worse.”

_ Jesus, of course, he has _

_ He shouldn’t have to live like this. _

They move on. 

Entering a maze-like garden, together they press forward passing the marble fountains, statues, and unknown territory covered with foliage and other mosses. Ahead of them, the high school sign towers over, lurking infecting hinted at by the sounds growing louder as they walk.

With the journey towards the school itself, it was one of stealth. Arrows and other weapons quietly taking out the clickers hobbling around the grassy areas. Bruce having never ventured out this far before, meant more clusters of infected freely roaming around. There weren't any blockades or traps to handle most of the freaks, they were on their own with this one.

An arrowhead takes out the last clicker, body slumping onto the grass as the group surges forward. They reach another wooden gate, overgrown garden turning into the cracked pavement of a small backroad. Fences and barbed wire blocked one end, foliage overtaking the metal as another wall. Beside them lies the outskirts of a neighborhood, twenty years of plant growth, and chaos evident. 

Two runners appear a few feet ahead, hunched forms unmoving. They snarled at each other, twitching bodies look in other direction unaware of their presence. The pair looked in the late stages of being runners, infection slowly moving towards the next stage of freakville. By the looks of it, they seemed docile — mindless creatures nothing without their food. There was no point for them to hobble around,  _ to live _ . 

Tony hides behind a garage can, Bruce slowly shifting over to a rusting oven dragged out into the street. Clearly there was some set up here, military bases or not, someone managed to set up basic coverage options. The road ahead breaks off into two, the runners they can see straight ahead and another a few feet between the section of houses. This freak matches the others, hobbling form barely moving due to lack of food. 

Banner is the first the surge toward, machete in hand hacking off the closest runner's head just Tony shivs the other. They go down with a tiny snarls, weak things crumbling onto the pavement. The kid joins them, ax in hand as they press forwards down the road towards the other runner. Another quick shiv and the freak is left into the side, the group taking in the unknown territory.

It only took a few steps to hear the familiar sounds of clickers and more active runners. The yards surrounding them all sounded with lively, caved in fences detailing the small groups lingering around. An added tension fell among the group, all on edge and careful not to make any more noise than they need too.

They work like that for a while, the three of them luring and lurking around the freaks slowly taking them out. A shed becomes their base of sorts, opened doors allowing the group to work in a circle. When a decent amount of infected lay dead, Tony hops on top of the shed roof bow at the ready as the cluster of clickers lurked below. 

He lines the shot, blind freaks hobbling around still unaware. He fires at the closest one, spores fully engulfing over any natural features of a human face. It crashes to the ground with a small screech, it’s friends going into a slight frenzy. The other two jerk around erratically bumping into each other expecting a person to be there. Tony grabs another arrow, gaze flickering down to the kid to check on him. Gaze returning to the threat around them, he takes another deep breath, arrow firing straight into the freak's neck. A rasp escapes that freak as the last one charges over only earn metal pipe to face. The kid sprung into action, the old dented pipe breaking into the face. 

The last one falls dead and Tony’s just sits there with a proud smile. He stays there a bit longer than he realizes, Banner silently gesturing him to come down roughly. He stumbles off, smile disappearing as quickly as it came. Unseen and unnoticed like it should be.

The group continues stealthing around, yards overgrown and houses in general boarded up. There was a glimpse of the life with the initial outbreak happening, efforts of homeowners trying to protect themselves from monsters. But clearly, those efforts didn’t work and left the neighborhood decaying into an infected wasteland.  When they finally find a garage that was left open, Tony tries the white door leading to another yard. The door creaks, opening only a few inches revealing a rope holding it close. 

He let’s go sighing, door slamming close. “It’s tied on the other side.”

Peter kneels down to the planks of wood barely hooked onto the door. “What about through here?” He yanked the planks off revealing a doggy dog. “I can fit through that.”

Panic suddenly grips his lungs, parental instincts taking over again. He takes another breath pushing those feelings way down and where they belong. 

“Be very careful,” Were the only words he could mutter out.

“Of course,” The kid replies crawling through the door.

It’s a few more anxiety-inducing seconds with Tony’s heart beating loudly in his chest. He takes a few more deep breaths, door opening revealing the kid perfectly fine and breathing. A sigh of relief escapes him, earning him a glare from Bruce as they pressed forward. 

Peter points up to the house as they walk out. “There’s more of those clickers inside the house.

“Shit,” He mutters taking a look at freaks littering inside the patio area. “They haven’t seen us yet, stay low.”

The task at hand wasn’t necessarily taking out all the clickers but getting passed undetected. Sometimes, especially in these cases, stealthily passing by is much better than facing them head-on. Keeping those facts in mind, they inched forward, slowly by the lingering clickers outside and into the more infected house. 

In general, the house looks like what other structures look like now: rummaged through, decaying, and more importantly infected. In this case, most of the clickers were twitching in other rooms. Just far enough for easy takedowns such as arrows, shivs, and strangulation. They follow these methods closely, freaks dropping to the floor until they’re free to travel to the front yard heavily overgrown.

Bruce was our first. “C’mon, let’s get up. On the RV and over. It should be clear.”

They hop up on the rusted vehicle, briefly stopping at the convenient plank leading them across to a treehouse. They share a few looks, Banner mostly himself looking suddenly somber.

“Who the hell left this here?” Peter asks walking over. “Do you have friends in town?”

“No,” Everyone meets back up in another yard with a green and marsh-like pool. Bruce's eyes stare at the treehouse for a few more seconds a frown appearing in his face. “Although I got a few ideas who might have come through here.”

Tony goes to question his friend but is cut off pretty quickly.

“The school on the other side of this house. Let’s get inside.”

The conversation stops there.

Another jaunt follows, a few supplies grabbed on the way before they’re standing in a garage. The door sits barely open, sunlight just peeking under as echoes of infected sound off from a distance. Banner and Tony lift the door upward, metal screeching until they can get fully open. The group pauses, checking their surroundings before taking cover behind a rusting car. 

They peek over the cracked windshield, a large cluster of school buses littered throughout. Foliage takes over, as usual, the remnants of the high school still standing strong. The football field stays overgrown, stadium lights slowly caving from years of decay. Infected weaves in and out of the park vehicles, hobbling with no real purpose. Bruce points up ahead, his gaze finally landing on the vehicle they needed.

“What I tell ya,” His friend smirks seeming a bit better. “There’s that truck sticking out of the school right there, c’mon.”

Tony turns to Peter, hand grabbing his shoulder before his brain could react. “Stay close ok?”

The kid looks surprised, blinking a few times before nodding. His hand pats the one on his shoulder, slightly smiling in reassurance. 

_ Oh fuck, he’s growing attached. _

Bruce interrupts once more. “There’s a bunch of them up there so try not to make a sound.”

Peter turns towards the man, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, no shit.”

A laugh escaped Tony’s lips, a smile he can’t hold back and they pressed forward.

A half brick wall becomes their first cover, three pairs of eyes watching the snarling runners walk around the overturned bus covered in foliage. The freaks erratically limp around, painful wails escaping through their lips. Their bodies hutch inward, limbs barely moving like their human selves could.  It becomes almost a game of cat and mouse, Tony trailing behind a lone runner all the way to a nearby police car left to the wayside. It’s a quick kill, shiv to neck as the freak goes down in a bloody mess. They move on, bodies sticking the sides of buses as the round the car corner. 

Purple banners sit attached, white paint indicating a location a group number. They were evacuation buses, buses that seemingly never got the chance to pull out of the parking lot. The infected here alone show some sort of struggle. But nevertheless, they take more of these freaks down. Twenty years have passed, they couldn’t help those people anyway. 

Tony manages to shoot an arrow in a runner as Bruce strangles another. The kid stays behind him, ax at the ready for any unwanted guests. So far their tactic of stealth works, that is until he goes for another bow shot.

He shoots too low, the arrow just hitting the runner's shoulder as it wails out in pain. It jerks its head as he curses, arrow already firing into its head. The body falls but it’s too late, the others have been alerted.

_ Fuck. _

Infected screech from all around, heads jerking their way towards the source of the wails. The runners sprint towards them, red and blotchy faces raging with hunger. Deep guttural growls follow, teeth snapping at the sight of food.

Tony shoves Peter forward, his safety coming first. “Run, Pete!  _ Run!” _

Bruce already whips his shotgun out firing rounds at the oncoming freaks. The kid barely makes it a few steps, infected keeping him in the same area they were spotted. 

“They’re coming from everywhere!”

His own shotgun is out moments later, ammo loaded and firing at the freaks daring to look at the kid. Another few infected crawl from under buses, a group cornering Bruce as they deal with others coming near them. Peter’s quick to use the makeshift ax, nailing a runner before shoving it to the ground. 

Tony fires a couple of rounds into another runner, wailing form trying to lunge for him. When the freak gets close, he stops firing. Instead opting to use the back end of the gun to bash the freak’s brains. Blood and brain matter hit the pavement seconds later, Banner himself already decapitating the last infected near him. When that body falls, the group stays still only their heavy breaths being heard. 

The cluster of blood and infected lay everywhere, panicked glances shared with the group. The kid crouched down, eyes scanning under buses almost expected a stalker to be there. They inch back together, on edge and less confident with their stealth tactic. Tony picks up his two arrows, kicking the damn thing that decided to wail at the top of its lungs.

“That was way less than I thought there would be,” Banner heaved shaking off the blood on his blade. “They must be holed up somewhere else.”

_ That doesn’t sound any less reassuring. _

“Let’s not test our luck,” He replies catching his breath walking towards the school. “How do we get inside?”

A large barbed wire fence blocks the school, people trying to block out the initial wave of infected from the evacuation zones. 

“Uh-“ His friend just shrugs looking around. 

The kid suddenly takes off in front pointing up at the bus a few feet ahead. “Someone left a ladder on the bus. Boost me up and I’ll drop it to you.”

Tony catches up to bus number two crashed through the fence, kneeling down and cupping his hands to allow the kid to climb up. Spider-Man style, Peter lunges up grabbing the top of the bus as he pulls himself onto the roof. A few seconds later, the ladder drops off the side allowing both men to safely climb on top of the bus as well.  They pause taking a look for anymore infected, the school building looking worse for wear. Crumbling bricks, vines all over, and not to mention the car crashed through the side. 

No freaks lingered out, the school ground eerily silent.

“I think we’re good,” Banner says taking the lead. “All we need to do is get to the hood and we’re golden.”

“You make it sound so easy,” He replies as something in his gut tells him something wasn’t right. “Just take it slow.”

They move towards the front of the bus and off the roof to the hood. They hop off onto the pavement, barely taking a few steps towards the truck they needed as muffed growls and scratches came from the distance. Tony instantly pulls Peter towards him, gun drawn waiting for freaks to come for them.

“Shit, you hear that?” Bruce looks at a fence on the far side. Infected pound against it, hordes for hunger freaks looking at them. “Move it, they’re coming!”

They round the corner to the side door, panic breaths shared between them. The kid peaks around the side, Banner working in the door.

“Alright we’re gonna get in quick, we’re gonna get the battery, and get the fuck out of here.” 

“Oh fuck,” The kid sounds scared. “They’re piling on the fence!”

Tony's head whips around to see what Peter was staring at, blood running cold. Panic grip his lungs, eyes watching the infected pound against the already weak fence. 

“Bruce,” He yells pulling the kid behind him. “That shit isn't gonna hold for long!”

His friend pulls against the door, multiple cursing escaping his lips. “The door’s lock!”

The pounding continued from afar, infected screeches, and growls growing louder. Banner rounds another corner with them, hopping on top of a radiator trying the windows. 

“Guys—?!”

“Bruce—?!”

A runner finally comes barreling at them, heavy breaths charging at its meal. He stumbles back gun ready to fire. There’s a heavy screeched, window sliding open.

“I got it, windows open! Hurry!”

Tony fires at first runner he sees, blood going everywhere as he sprints over to follow the others into the gym. More runners follow its friend’s pursuit, snarling and attempting to grab for his legs. He barely makes it through the open window, practically throwing himself through as the kid calls out to him.  A clicker comes up from behind, body pouncing on his stopping him halfway through the window. He heaved panicking as he elbows the damn thing in the face knocking it away as Peter tries tugs him through. The clicker doesn’t give up, cold and clammy hand latching onto his foot pulling him back.

“ _ Tony!” _ The kid yells panicked as Bruce takes this chance to grab his collar and throw him inside.

He hits the floor hard, just getting to his knees as the clicker tries to grab Peter. A panicked yelped comes from him, a gunshot following as blood spatters on the kid. Daze and somewhat scared, he slams the window close taking large steps back away from the glass. 

He stares a Tony, ragged breaths shaking his hold body. “T-That’s not gonna hold.”

It takes everything in his being not to hug this kid right now.

“Banner hurry the fuck up!” He calls out to his friend watching the window as a few bang their heads against the glass making a bloody mess. 

A sudden pounding draws their attention, full-on guttural growls coming from the lock classroom doors. The infected pressed against it, desperately trying to breakthrough. Tony notices a large metal shelf of gym supplies call the kid over.

“Grab this,” He huffs push the heavy shelf against the door as their bodies leaned against the oncoming force from behind. “Please tell me you're done!”

Bruce hurries over to the car, ripping open the hood with a shocked expression. “It’s empty…”

_ No, no, no. _

“What?!”

The metal shelf moves with a powerful source infected not giving up anytime soon. Tony runs up to the vehicle himself, bewildered that the battery was not there. Banner only looks at the car again angrily.

“It’s fucking empty!”

“Guys—!” The kid was holding the shelf by himself now struggling with the force.

“Where do we go now?!” He presses his friend, infected still looming outside.

“Uh-“

“ _ Where?!” _

“Anywhere but here!” Bruce starts taking off for the other side of the gym.

Tony latches onto Peter, paternal instincts fully taking over. “C’mon, get ready to haul some serious ass.”

The group barely makes it to the other side when the door bursts open, infected raging as their gazes fine them.

“They broke through!”

_ Fuck. _


	9. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next few moments are filled with gunfire, painful screeches of infected chasing after them. Their bodies erratically jerk different stages of infection coming at them with a force. Another few rounds go off, curses shared between all three of them. Freaks wail in the distance, the noise attached more of their friends.
> 
> Not good.
> 
> Bruce, nail bomb in hand, chucks it at the cluster of runners coming in. It explodes, sharp objects tearing their infected bodies to shreds. Their screeches are chilling, erratic forms dropping to floors in bloody messes. The group stumbles back some more, bodies flying further into the school and away from the oncoming threat. 
> 
> The doors click shut behind them, Banner quickly whips out the thick rope from his other traps. The man ties multiple and complicated knots around the handles, doors unable to open. A clicker and a runner slam into the door when he’s done, heavy growls beating against the wood. Their fingertips scratch the surface, desperate attempts to reach the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, guns, and character death. (not graphic mention of suicide as well)

The next few moments are filled with gunfire, painful screeches of infected chasing after them. Their bodies erratically jerk different stages of infection coming at them with a force. Another few rounds go off, curses shared between all three of them. Freaks wail in the distance, the noise attached more of their friends.

Not good.

Bruce, nail bomb in hand, chucks it at the cluster of runners coming in. It explodes, sharp objects tearing their infected bodies to shreds. Their screeches are chilling, erratic forms dropping to floors in bloody messes. The group stumbles back some more, bodies flying further into the school and away from the oncoming threat. 

The doors click shut behind them, Banner quickly whips out the thick rope from his other traps. The man ties multiple and complicated knots around the handles, doors unable to open. A clicker and a runner slam into the door when he’s done, heavy growls beating against the wood. Their fingertips scratch the surface, desperate attempts to reach the other side.

The whole group takes a step back into the school hallway, dim lighting already creating an eerie setting. Their flashlights turn on, hearts racing as the threat of infected still lurks about. The checkered floors are covered in dirt, cracked walls most likely mixing in with some type of non-infected mold. The green lockers reflected their lights, stretching into a space they have never been in.

Peter suddenly slides down to the floor, back pressed against the lockers. The poor kid struggles to breathe, almost on the verge of a panic attack. He looks at Tony with wide glassy eyes, white knuckles clawing at his backpack.  Banner just stands there, panic gaze glancing around offering no real help. His friend only just gestures him over there, telling him to deal with the kid.

“Hey kid,” Tony tries as the kid still gasps for air. “Whoa hey-“

He’s at a complete loss, mind trying to figure out some way to comfort the kid. He doesn’t know what set the poor boy off, he seemed fine just seconds ago. Peter still struggles with his bag, mouth trying to form words he couldn’t say. 

“Tony do something,” Bruce gestured again, watching the door still shake. “We need to move,  _ now.” _

“No shit!” He harshly whispers back, a sense of overprotectiveness washing over him. “He’s a kid having a panic attack give him a fucking break.”

Peter’s bag is almost off him now, head leaning forward as he shakes. He gasps for air again, making Tony worry even more.

_ He wasn’t equipped for this. _

_ He has no idea how to comfort him. _

“Not-“ The kid wheezes out finally. He shoves his bag forward, pointing at it. “N-Not a panic a-attack.”

His gaze looks at the bad then at the kid, mouth going dry. His mind did a couple of mental backflips, settling on the worst-case scenario. 

_ Oh God, was he turning finally? _

_ No, no, no. _

_ Please. _

“Kid what do you—“

“A-Asthma-“ Pete heaves shoving at his bag one more time. “I-In..haler”

Everything clicks, hands already ripping the contents of his bag open. Tony tears through, scanning through the comics and supplies before finding the object he needed. He whips the damn thing out, shoving it in the kid’s hand. He watches Peter struggle for a few moments, hand shaking as he blows a few puffs into his mouth. 

The kid slowly gets his breath back, pale face finally getting some color back into it. The inhaler still stays in his shaky hand, chest moving as he takes a few more deep breaths. Their eyes meet, worry still plaguing his thoughts as he watches the poor boy go back to normal.

“Shit,” Peter heaves. 

“So asthma?” Tony cringes at his own question. 

“Sorry, I don’t-“

“No, no..." He tries to reassure him. "It’s fine. All good.”

_ Lies _ .

_ Peter has asthma, he has fucking- _

Bruce scoffs. “Kid, trust me, that's not good.” He glares at his friend begging him not to continue on but he does. “In case you didn’t realize we're in a fucking school crawling with infected.”

“And I couldn’t fucking breathe.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alight!” Tony hissed pushing down his own worry for the kid. “That’s enough from you Bruce. I know shit hit the fan but there’s no need to be a dick.”

_ It wasn’t the kid’s fault. _

“You needed a car in the first place.”

“And the battery is gone!” He huffed eyes darting back the way they came. The doors stopped shaking, infected still growling from the other side. “Now quit being a dick and get us the fuck out of this place!”

“Whatever,” His friend sighs, turning to the kid. “Just keep your asthma attacks in check.

Peter only flips him off, stuffing his inhaler back into his bag before grabbing his ax. Tony helps him up, a firm hand against his back worried if the kid was able to walk. 

“Just take it slow, kiddo,” The nickname slips out before he realizes.

“I know,” He sighs. “Sorry about-“

“Don’t apologize, you couldn’t control it. Bruce is just on edge, we all are.”

They press on, leaving the infected locked behind a set of doors to freely roaming clickers. After trekking down the long hallway, the group stumbles upon another set of hallways and stairs. Banners and trophies still reminded in their cases, clickers limping around lurking in each hall.

The group falls back into their stealth tactics, bows and blades taking out freaks. Tony keeps the kid in sight at all times, mind worrying about his well being. They were barely a few feet and the poor boy was on the floor gasping for air. After that he never wanted to see that image again, he never wanted to see the kid suffer.

_ He has to pay attention to their surroundings.  _

_ How the hell does the kid refill his inhalers? _

_ Fuck, his anxiety was through the roof. _

Somehow through his anxiety-filled daze, he follows Bruce into a chemistry lab. Desks remained in place, beakers and Bunsen burners scattered around. They find cover behind the teacher’s desk, chalkboard still lingering with equations. They peak over, eyes falling on the three or so clickers lurking. 

One was at the back of the classroom, standing in the doorframe leading to another hallway. The freak’s friends hobbled around in the other room, blindly clicking.

“That’s our way through,” Bruce finally speaks. “We need to get past the freaks.”

Two more clickers come into the class, Banner reaching for something in his bag. He pulls out a bottle, Tony already recognizing the contents at a Molotov. 

“Wanna light these shitheads up?” His friend hands him the bottle with a slight smirk. 

“You have no idea.”

Tony waits as Bruce throws another glass bottle at the group of clickers. They screeched blindly pouncing towards the sound. Once they were all together, he chucks the Molotov, fire engulfing the three clickers as they cry out. Together they flail around bodies overcome by the fire as they slump to the floor.

Another jaunt passed charred bodies and they’re back in the hall, bodies pressed against the wall as two runners hobbled about. They snarled and growled at each other, vocal cords fried. 

“There should be a path down this hallway,” Bruce mutters inching towards the desk left in the hallway. 

Tony makes Peter stay ahead of him, eyes watching the kid breathe as he readies his bow. Banner decides to make the daring move, swift feet tackling the closest from behind with a chokehold. Just as the other runner notices, jerking his way towards the commotion, he earns an arrow straight through the eye. It withers away, it’s friend slumping to the floor as its neck snaps.

They surged forward passed another set of lockers and towards what looked like a gym door. He goes to open it, a heavy weight in front blocking the door from opening. He pushes against them desperate to get out of this hell hole.

“Help me open this,” He says as Bruce pushes. The door budges a little bit, the object in front moving. “Come on, we got this.”

It takes three rounds of pushing, loud creaking noises echoing down the halls. A space finally opens as they barrel through, a smaller decaying gym coming into view. Banner is the last through, squeezing by as they struggle to pull the shelf holding mats back towards the door.

“They heard us,” His friend heaves. “We need to barricade the doors.”

The rusty wheels give them trouble, all three now putting their backs against the object pushing it into place. The door slams shut, the group taking a few steps back as footsteps echo.

“That’s not going to hold for long,” Peter huffs out. 

A sudden pounding comes from the other side of the gym, passed the makeshift medical bays. The doors on the far side shake with a force, unblocked like the door they came through. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” He mutters, his gaze now fully focused at the creaking door.

The door slams open, a large bloated infected freak stomping out with a fury. Fungus growths cover its body, masses swell into thick balls of spores. Its stomach is covered in a moss-like growth, massive spores probably filled with pus. Any form of a human head is gone, replaced by a flowering spore head of teeth. A deep guttural growl comes from the beast, head jerking each way to find its prey.

Tony instinctively grabs onto Peter pulling him back as his free hand grabs the shotgun. He steps in front of the kid, cocking the gun as the massive figure turns their way.

_ Oh shit. _

“What the fuck,” The kid whispers as freaks hand reaches behind itself. “ _ Is that. _ ”

The beast lets out another guttural growl, its arm arching back as a spore ball flies from its hand. Tony latches onto the kid pulling him away from the blast, watching the ball burst into a green cloud of spores. It growls out again, louder and much more powerful.

“Shit, it’s a fucking Hulk!”

The kid still shell-shocked clings into him. “ _ A what...” _

“Don’t listen to Bruce, it’s a fucking Bloater!”

Another spore ball comes their way, inches away this time as the beast grows angry. Peter still doesn’t let go just yet, knuckles turning white as they sprint over for some cover. They hide behind a privacy screen, watching as Banner chucks a Molotov the freak’s way. It explodes, covering it in flames but certainly not taking it down.

“Kiddo,” The nickname comes out again. “Take cover, do not attack-“

Two runners come flying down from the bleachers covered in foliage. They face-plant onto the ground, jerking bodies stumbling upward to join in on the fight. Tony starts firing at them, body still dragging the kid around as spore balls flew around the room. Bruce chucks a nail bomb, contents piercing some of the growths as pus-like substance dripped out. 

Four shots later and the runners are down, bodies slumping into their own pools of blood. Bruce begins firing at the bloater, hulk, whatever the fuck it was, barely missing an oncoming spore ball.

“What the fuck is it throwing?!”

“Pete, not now,” He says, begrudgingly unlatching himself from the kid. He reloads his gun, pointing at the spot they were hiding behind. “Stay away from that thing ok?”

“But-“

“Trust me you don’t want to-“

Another spore ball flies overhead, hitting the basketball hoop. 

_ “A little help over here!” _

“I’m coming,” He yells out, gaze falling back to the kid. “Stay away.”

Tony doesn’t wait for a reply before charging into the fight, gun firing. The bloater's charred form chased them around the room, the kid always a few feet out of the freak’s vision. They continued firing at the thing, tank-like features making it hard to take down like normal infected. 

At one point, they’re chucking bricks at the damn thing. Almost all of them, crumbling and breaking once it connected with its head. The room gets covered in spore balls, nothing too toxic for them but that was the least of their worries right now. 

A few more minutes of chasing occurs, their ammo starting to run low as the beast trudged on. Banner suddenly ducks behind the screen, disappearing for a few more seconds before chucking another Molotov at the bloater. Fire erupts, covering the beast as it struggles to fight against flames this time. 

The group stumbles back, eyes watching the figure fall to its knees with a guttural wail. It jerks violently, body suddenly slumping to the floor unmoving. They all pause for a few more seconds, waiting for the freak to get up.

It doesn’t, and they all let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Peter finally closes the distance from him and the beast, eyes wide as he takes in the sight. Charred remains lay there, pusing masses leaking onto the floor. 

“Geez…” The kid trails off still not approaching it entirely, a wild almost uneasy look in his eyes. “What the hell is up with the big guy.”

“He’s been infected for a long ass time,” He answers reloading. “We call them bloaters because they swell up at some point.”

“Hulk sounds cooler,” Banner mutters.

“I'm not calling it that.”

“Alright, so bloaters,” The kid heaves out another breath. “Cool, got it.  _ Fuck.” _

_ Yeah fuck. _

“Now that your biology lesson is over, may I suggest getting the hell out of here?” The man points up to the bleachers splattered with blood gesturing for him to come over. “Help me get onto the bleachers.”

Tony only sighed helping his friend up. “You know, a please and thank you would go a long way.”

“Fuck you, Stark.”

The kid hops up next, Banner helping him up as gas starts escaping from the bloater. They all gag at the smell, rotting flesh never sat right with anybody. He goes to take his friend's hand next, coming to a halt as grunting echoed into the room. 

_ “Behind you!” _

He whips around to find two runners coming from a hole in the upper part of the wall. They scurry down, hobbling forms snarling their teeth at him. He takes a step back, a metal can flying over his head and landing by the freaks. It explodes, sharp nails tearing the runners to shred before they could even sprint. 

Tony wastes no time hurry the fuck up the bleachers. 

Together they exit through a window, and down into the backside of the school. They hit the pavement as more growls trail behind them, the group sprinting through an opening in the fence. They slide down a small hill, feet hitting water leftover from the storm. Runners charge from all angles, shotguns firing rounds as quickly as the infected came into view.

“There’s a ladder!” Peter yells out pointing to a wooden fence.

They scramble over there, taking out a few more infected as they try to make it over the fence. Tony’s the last person to make it over, knees hitting the ground as Bruce knocked the ladder over with a rake. Infected come pounding against the fence, wails and growls just a few feet away. 

His friend backed away. “Inside the house,  _ now.” _

They sprint inside, Banner slamming the sliding glass door shut drowning the cries of infected. There’s a small silence, eyes watching the fence to make sure it was holding.

“So that,” The kid takes another puff of his inhaler, not easing any of his worries. "Worked out well.”

His friend only bitterly sighed, fist clenching. Tony shot the kid a look, gesturing for him to take a step back.

"Ah okay..." He mutters gesturing to his right. "I'll check out this side of the house," He leaves without another word leaving the two men.

Another silence follows as he takes in the front part of the living room mostly focusing on his friend. Once the kid was out of the room, he got closer unsure how pissed Banner was.

“Bruce?”

“Somebody had the same idea. They stole my shit.” His friend just shrugs it off. “Oops, I guess.”

“Well, then what the hell is plan B?” He sighed exhausted and frustrated.

Bruce finally exploded. 

“You ought to be thankful you’re still drawing breath. My bombs saved your asses back there.” He points angrily back at the school. “That was plan A. B. C. All the way to fucking Z.”

Tony just scoffs, growing annoyed himself.

“And furthermore more you tell that crazy friend of yours, Maria, that she can take this job—“

His blood boils. “ _ Don’t you bring Maria into this!” _

_ Don’t you fucking dare talk bad about her. _

_ She fucking sacrifice herself for them. _

“She can take that job and shove it right up—“

“This has nothing to do—!“ He stops when Bruce’s face falls.

He stares at his friend, watching his eyes go glassy and his face goes pale like he had seen a ghost. He watches him take a heavy breath, almost on the verge of a breakdown. Tony finally turns to see what he’s looking at, eyes going wide.

It was a body, a male hanging from the ceiling in a red Hawaiian shirt. The light in the room mostly covered the man’s face, but the sight of someone hanging there was still a heavy thing to process.

“Jesus,” He mutters, swallowing a lump in his throat. He still watches Bruce stare barely moving. “Do you know this guy or something?”

There’s a pause and loud sniffle. “Thor.”

“Who the hell is Thor?”

Banner lips go in a thin line, a tear rolling down his cheek. “He was my partner.” He draws his blade, eyes longing to look up at the man. “He’s the only idiot that would wear a shirt like that.”

With another heavy sigh, he moves over to the body taking another look. He swiftly cuts the man down, watching as the body hits the floor. He wipes his nose, a quiet sob bubbling past his lips as he tries to compose himself. 

Tony could barely look at the situation at hand, mind going back twenty years to Pepper’s death. He sees it in Banner’s eyes: the loss, the grief, the disbelief, the anger all raging inside him at once. There was a reason why he was short with them today and the reason was laying there on the floor dead. It was a person who brought joy to Bruce’s life and it was the same one who brought a surge of emotions he couldn’t deal with.

“He’s got bites,” The man’s voice cracks. He looks at all of them, pointing them out to his friend. “Here...and here.”

He offers a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder only to be shrugged off. “I reckon he didn’t want to turn so he…”

“Yeah...I guess not.”

Another silence follows, Bruce still looking at Thor. He sniffles wiping a hand across his face trying to stop crying. He looks up grief-stricken, eyes red as he puts on a 'mask.' Tony knows it all too well, the masks they still put on twenty years later. Deaths don’t process well in this world, a constant what if playing in everyone’s heads about what they could do better. He’s done it with Pepper and he’s certainly doing it with Maria right now.

Bruce and him were a lot alike these days.

“Well fuck him,” His friend bitterly says. “He left, he disappeared without-“ He stops as his voice cracks, breathing heavy. He composes himself, his mask falling into place. “Fuck him.”

Tony knew he didn’t mean that he knew that his friend could never hate that man lying on the floor. He hated the situation, he hated the reason that his partner went out. 

He tries to offer a gentle hand again only to be cut off mid-action by the sound of a car engine. Both men look towards the end of the house Peter went in. They glance at each other, rushing to the source of the noise.

They reach the garage, finding the kid sitting in the driver's seat trying to get the car to start. He smiles at them, cocky and unaware of what they found in the other room. 

“Look what I found. It’s got some juice in it.”

Bruce walks up to the front of the truck, eyes widening when he looks at the contents under the hood. He laughs tearfully, touching something within the engine.

“That’s my battery.” He sniffles again, a smile creeping on his lips. “That fucking asshole.”

_ Thank you, Thor. _

Banner slams the hood down, mask falling back into place. “Get out.” He switches places with the kid, turning the key and listening to the engine. “The battery’s drained but the cells are alive.”

Tony butts in. “Meaning we-“

“We push it, get it started and the alternator will recharge the battery.”

“Is that a guess?”

His friend only scoffs. “You wanted a plan B. Well here it is.”

Peter looks between the two men. “What are we thinking exactly?”

He looks at the garage fully knowing what lurks on the other side. He sighs, wondering just how much luck they still have.

“I’m thinking you drive, we push.”

“Outside with those-“

“Yes, Peter we’re fully aware of what’s out there,” Banner huffs getting out of the car. “Might as well take a look around, Thor must have had a few things on him if he got this far.” 

The kid looked confused. “Thor?”

“Long story, trust me.”

________

Giving themselves time to catch their breaths and process everything, the group split up searching the house. It takes not too long for the kid to find the body, eyes lingering on Thor with a readable expression. They moved passed that room after that, Bruce finding a stash of his partner's supplies as Peter took the kitchen. 

Tony worked his way into a bedroom of sorts, the mess contents of the room clearly indicating someone lived here before. He had no idea how Thor must have stayed here, most of the room’s mess seemed to be beforehand. Dirty clothes in piles, a messy TV stand, hell the bed didn’t even have a bed frame. It reminded him of a college dorm at a frat house, MIT house parties lingering back into his mind. He actually laughed at the thought, glancing around to find some beer bottles instead of boarded-up windows. 

His hand finds a piece of paper on the desk, flashlight revealing the black ink detailing something. He picks it up curiously, eyes already realizing who wrote this. 

_ Bruce, _

_ Well, I doubt you’d ever find this note because you were too scared to ever make it to this part of town. But if for some reason you did, I want you to know I love you and always will. From our talks, I know we wanted more from this life and we needed to get the hell out of this shitty town. I know you had your worries about leaving this town and what we need to do so, but I took a chance on the battery anyway. I got it but I guess the universe doesn’t let us win truly. I won’t be here for much longer but just know, each day with you was worth it.  _

_ Good luck, love, _

_ Thor.  _

Tony lingered in that room for a while, eyes rereading the letter. It wasn’t meant for his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. The universe seemed to always take the ones they loved the most away and didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. He swallows a lump in the throat, not daring to think of Pepper right now. He doesn’t need his mind distracted, he still had people needing him to get them out of this shitty situation. 

So he sobers up, pushing any emotion he had way down and hoping it never returns. Tony puts on his invisible mask, the one that had many cracks but managed to get him this far. And by the time he meets back up with the kid in the kitchen, the note is in his jean pocket and out of sight. Banner deserved the letter when they weren’t worrying about infected. 

“Find anything?” Peter putting what looked like some first aid supplies in his bag. 

“Uh, not really,” He sighed. “Pretty sure you found the most of it.”

The kid nods following him as they join back up with Bruce in the garage. The man looks better, red-rimmed eyes slowly disappearing but Tony knew he was hurting on the inside. They couldn’t take the body with them, Thor had to stay here. His friend knew that, but leaving him here didn’t make things any easier. Pepper had to stay behind too, body left in their old home town miles from here in an unmarked grave. It was just the new norm in this shitty world. 

“Ready?” His friend asks. 

Peter gets in the car, shutting the door and gripping the wheel. Tony walks around back, body getting ready to push the car out once the door opens. 

“Let’s do this.” 

Banner pulls the door up manually, creaking noise echoing into the room. They cringe fully knowing they weren’t the only ones that heard that. 

“Alright, put her in first,” He directs to the kid before joining Tony in the back.

“Uh-huh.”

“Just keep your foot on the clutch and when we get to roll-“

“I know how to pop a clutch dumbass.”

That comment earned a snort from Tony as Banner only shot him a glare. His friend sighed, nudging him in the shoulder playfully. 

“I don’t know how or why you know that shit,” Bruce began. “But right now I only care about you not fucking this up.”

“Get pep talk,” He smirks. “Really inspiring.”

“Oh fuck off Stark.”

“Alright, kid get ready!” He calls out as both men start pushing the truck down the driveway. 

The truck rolls forward, heavy weight finally moving as both men try to finish the task at hand. Tony waits for an infected to pop up, some asshole lurking in distance ready to pounce. When that doesn’t come, he watches the car roll down the driveway. The kid tries the engine again, tail lights turning on as the vehicle rolls out onto the street.

They both cheer silently at the small victory, jogging forward being careful of their surroundings. Infected still stayed away, the street eerily quiet for his liking. Banner shoots the kid a thumbs up, surprisingly showing some sort of positive encouragement as they began round two of pushing the car.

From there it only took about three seconds before Tony heard some movement to his left. His eyes snapped up, a distance growl coming near them.

Peter called out. “Infected incoming! Left side!”

His pistol was out seconds later as runner tried to get the jump on him. It snarled sprinting full force at him as two clickers tried to surround Bruce. The runner jerked violently, decaying hands reaching out for him. Two shots were fired into the damn thing, body dropping inches away. A clicker’s head rolled along the pavement, blood gushing as Banner was already hacking away at the other freak. His friend’s blade goes into the clicker’s head, body slumping to the ground as they rushed back to push the truck. 

They needed this truck to work  _ now _ .

“We gotta go faster!” The kid calls out stressed.

_ No shit. _

“If we make it to the hill,” Bruce huffs out. “Just getting her over the edge…”

“Right!  _ Right!” _

A female runner's high pitched wail drew their attention to the five infected. They stumbled down the drive of a greenhouse, three runners and two clickers in total. The female freak wailing like no tomorrow reached Tony first, hands almost grabbing his shirt. He swung his mental pipe at the infected’s head brain matter hitting the pavement as another freak gunned it for him. 

This runner managed to get closer, decaying form grabbing his shirt collar trying to take a bite out of his neck. They struggled for a few moments, Tony finally getting the upper hand as he shivs the freak in its neck. It drops dead, three more infected clustering around his friend.

His pistol is back in his hands again, three rounds firing into a clicker before trying to get the runner off of Bruce. The sound startles the last two as their friend drops screeching. The runner guns for him instead, blind rage unable to recognize the two bullets flying at it. That one drops dead too, blood spilling onto the pavement. Banner lobs another clicker head off, barely making eye contact with him before rushing back over to the car.

Once again their task was interrupted by infected coming down from the left. Both men this time weren’t playing any games, shotguns out, and firing at anything lunging for them. The shots echoed in street, blood spattering as each shot destroyed some freak’s head. They continued firing for a few more moments, making sure each thing was fully dead before moving on.

The last clicker fell, head unrecognizable. Bruce let out a shaky breath, putting his gun away trying to get the car rolling. 

“You know you really fucked up my day right?”

“Love you too Bruciebear,” He mocked.

“Jesus, just get her to the hill.”

Another few pushes later and they reach the hill signaling for Peter to try the car again as it rolled down the hill. They stopped for a moment, watching the vehicle roll until the engine roared with life. The kid puts the breaks on, tail lights staying lit as proud smile tugs at his lips.

“You hear that?” He smiled not really the infected looming in the distance.

“Yeah well that means all the freaks hear it too,” Banner books it ahead. “Come on slowpoke, get to fucking car!”

They sprint the next few feet, eyes watching as more infected ran from houses. The horde seemed to grow; growls and hungry snarls chasing after the two men. They finally reach the bed of the truck hoping in just as the cluster started to get a little too close for comfort.

He bangs on the back window. “Go, Pete,  _ go _ !”

“ _ Floor it!”  _ His friend yells just as the car speeds off.

Runners chase after them, clickers not so far behind as both men ready their guns just in case. Peter drifts a corner, movement knocking both of them to side as the tires screeched. More infected spirited after them, hungry rage fueling them to chase after a speeding vehicle. 

When they finally clear some distance, they settled in the back of the truck out of breath. His heart thumped loudly, adrenaline still coursing through him. 

“Holy shit,” He sighs watches the infected get left behind.

“Yeah, holy shit,” his friend mutters as they hit a pothole. Bruce turns to him suddenly a bit on edge. “The kid knows how to drive right? Not just the basic fleeing from infected driving?”

Tony blinks a few times body jolting as they hit another pothole. The car shifts to one side, the kid cursing as his speed stayed the same.

“Uh-“

_ They were screwed. _

________

Somehow by the grace of God, Peter managed not to crash the car while they rode in back. Although, the kid sure knew how to make sharp turns and hit every pothole known to man. 

As of right now, the road turned less dangerous as they rolled back into the safer parts of town. They watched the sun set some more, a long stressful day finally coming to a close. Both men didn’t speak much during the drive, exhausted from the day’s events to even have a conversation. 

A familiar stretch of buildings came into view, Bruce sitting up as he banged the side of the truck.

“Alright, this will do!” 

The car comes to a not so steady stop, Banner muttering something under his breath as he jumps out with his gear. Tony jumps out to join him, the clouds now fully in a darker pink hue. He turns to Peter, gesturing for the kid to stay in the car for now.

“Just keep it running, I’ll be a minute.”

He joins his friend on the pavement, watching Banner lug his gear with a heavy sigh. “That boy nearly got us killed.”

“Driving aside,” He cringes. “You have to admit, he held his own back there.”

Bruce only lets out an air laugh shaking his head. “You sir, aren’t going to make it.”

He stopped suddenly fishing around in his bag for something. Banner pulls an object out throwing it at Tony. It’s a siphon hose, a rare item that can mean the world in this world.

“You’d be amazed at how many cars still have gas in them.”

“I appreciate it,” He replies moving closer to his friend. He pockets the hose, hand finding the note for Thor. “Look, Bruce, about your partner back there-“

“It’s a tough deal,” Banner sighs still holding strong. “But we don’t need to-“

Tony holds the folded up note out, hand slightly shaking as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “He left you a note at the house.”

His friend blinks numbly at him, eyes going glassy. He takes the note, not daring to open the folded paper just yet. A silence lingers between them, car engine only filling the void. Bruce sniffles once more, mask starting to crumble ever so slightly. 

“I know no words could make this any easier but I hope that note helps in some way.”

Banner sniffles once more, holding onto the note. “We square.”

He pats his friend’s shoulder. “We’re square.”

“Then get the fuck out of my town Starky boy,” His friend jokes.

Tony only nods watching him head off into some building. He sighs making his way over to Peter patiently waiting for him to return. The kid smiles, drumming on the steering well as he rolls the window down. 

“Ready to blow to this popsicle stand?”

“Definitely,” He sighs again. “Now hop over to the passenger seat.”

The kid's face falls, eyes narrowing. “I’m very capable of driving.”

“Says the last hundred potholes we hit, scoot,” He ushers, earning a moody teenager huff.

“Not my fault the pavement all fucked up,” Peter grumbles moving towards the passenger side. “I know how to drive.”

Tony hops into the vehicle just as dark clouds roll in. The air starts to change, getting colder as the wind picks up. Lightning flashes in the distance, thunder grumbling as the clouds moved. He pulls the window back up, thankful to be leaning against something that wasn’t the back bed of the truck. He turns back to the kid sulking, laughing in response.

“You wanna tell me where you got your supposed driving lesson them hmm?” He puts the car in drive, slowly taking them out of town. 

“The academy tried to but a couple of Avengers gave me a crash course in the end.”

“Does that crash course involves recklessly speeding all over the place or?”

“Hey!” The teen huffs punching his shoulder gently. “Infected we’re trying to eat us, I had to speed.”

“How about when they stopped miles back?”

“Oh fuck off,” He huffs out again. 

Tony’s laugher doesn’t stop for the next few minutes.


	10. Not-So-Grand Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They drive under streetlights and passed alleys, music still quietly playing. They come to a main stretch of road, all clear except for a hooded figure slowly hobbling out to the center. The man looks at them with worried eyes, blocking their path as Tony comes to a sudden stop.
> 
> He waves them down, clutching his stomach like he was in pain. “P-Please help!”
> 
> “Holy shit-“
> 
> Tony stares at the man for a few more seconds not liking this picture. He stares at the man’s stomach, noticing the lack of blood. He stays calm, eyes darting over to Peter looking worried for the man.
> 
> “Put your seatbelt on, Pete,” He mutters as the kid follows his instructions.
> 
> The man moves closer still clutching at his side. He knew this trick, he knows exactly what this guy wanted.
> 
> “Weren't not gonna help him?”
> 
> You naive kid.
> 
> “He’s not even hurt,” He responds pressing on the gas and charging at the man.
> 
> What happens next is a cluster fuck of poorly planned out plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, violence, drugs, and guns

It was mid-morning as Tony drove through the storm. Gray skies hung low, a mixture of sunlight just peeking through as the rain continued. His head rested against his hand supported by the window as he yawned, barely giving the road much attention as he blinks away sleep settling in his eyes.

The road was empty for the most part, rusting cars crashed on the shoulders leaving enough room for a vehicle to pass. The pavement was bumpy in some parts, roots, and other forms of decaying from the last twenty years wearing it down. Some flowers sprung up in the middle of the roadways, delicate little things crushed under the tires as they drove over.

Tony yawned once more, blinking numbly at the same sights blurring together. He really couldn’t tell how long they were traveling for, the hours just seemed to blend together once the sun rose. What he could recall were the few hours they spent at night weaving through highways until they pulled over for gas and a short rest. It was two hours almost, the kid still sleeping in the backseat as he continued driving through the storm.

The car splashes through a large puddle, water casting out. He blinks a few more times, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stretches his shoulders, settling further into the driver’s seat.

“Oh, man.”

The sudden voice made him jump, elbow painfully hitting the window. He glances to the backseat with a sigh, eyes finding the kid laid out with his feet kicking in the air. He sighed, focusing on the road ahead using the rearview mirror to look at Peter scowling at something.

“What happened to sleeping?”

Peter only shrugs him off, paper rusting in his hands. The windshield wipers pick up speed, clearing the rain from blocking his vision. The kid finally sits up, comic in hand with an annoyed expression.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t look like it but this here,” Peter holds up a Star Wars comic, something released in 2013. The kid flips through the pages showcasing the artwork. “Isn’t a bad read.”

Tony laughs amused.

“There’s only one problem,” The teen grumbles flipping to the last page. He points at the text in the bottom, disappointed and annoyed. “Right there, _‘to be continued.’_ Stupid cliffhangers.”

“Well that’s a tough-“ He pauses glancing back at the comic once more. His eyes narrow wondering why the kid even had access to an intact comic. “Where did you get that?”

“Uhh…” Peter sheepishly looks away, face growing a shade of pink. “Back at Bruce’s cellar.”

He holds back a laugh almost picturing his friend’s cursing and muttering once he realized something was gone. Banner was organized, he knew exactly where and what he had. He would know if something was missing soon.

“I mean all these comics were just sitting there,” The kid tries to defend himself. “I managed to grab three in the series but I guess there was much more.”

Peter held up the other two comics in the series sighing as he puts them away disappointed. Tony only raises a brow fully knowing the kid spent a long time by that pile of magazines and comics.

“What else did you get,” He smirks watching the kid’s eyes light up.

The teen suddenly has a mischievous grin, hands rustling around in his bag. “Well…” He pulls out a cassette tape waving it around. “Does this make you all nostalgic, old man?”

Tony takes the tape playfully glaring at the kid. “Y’Know this was little before my time.”

“I couldn’t tell,” The little shit mocks.

Ignore the mockery, he finally reads the artist on the cassette tape eyes widening. He laughs in surprise, a smile tugging at his lips. AC/DC, he hasn’t listened to them in forever.

“This is a winner though,” He says placing the tape in the player. Familiar guitar riffs come on, drums coming in as he smiles. “Oh, man…”

_Shoot to thrill, shoot to kill._

_Too many women with too many pills._

College memories come to the surface, he and Rhodey jamming out in their old MIT dorm without a care in the world. He actually smiles at the thought, almost excited to see his friend again.

“Oh, I love Led Zeppelin.”

Tony snaps out of this happy daze, jaw gaping at the kid. The kid once meeting his shocked gaze snorts, face scrunching up in laughter.

“Works every time,” The teen wheezes face still cutely scrunched up. “Old people and their bands, so protective.”

“ _Old?!_ I am not old!” He gawks nudging the kid playfully. “Don’t disrespect the legends.”

“Uh-huh.” Peter only smirks earning another nudge.

_Why was this kid so likable?_

“You're a little shit, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

Tony turns back to the road, a small smile refusing to disappear just yet. The kid, still holding onto his mischievous grin fishes through his bag once more.

“I’m pretty sure, your friend will be missing this tonight.”

He doesn’t turn back just yet, focusing on the fallen branch blocking one side of the road. He drives around if, listening to papers rustling once more.

“Light on the reading but it’s got some interesting photos.”

He glances back expecting some sort of comic again, only to have his eyes bug out once he realized what the kid was holding.

A porn magazine.

He whips around, staring at the mostly innocent kid looking at some not so innocent photos.

“Pete, that’s not for kids-“

Peter just ignores him cocking his head to the side as he turns the magazine. “ _Whoa_...how the hell-“ He stops leaning closer to the panicking man to show him the picture in question. “How does he even walk around with _that?”_

Tony gets one look at the photo and tries to grab the magazine. “Get rid of that-“

_Damnit, Bruce._

“Hold your horses,” The kid shifts away flipping through the pages. “I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

_Oh God, does he have to give him the talk?_

“Huh,” Peter looks confused. “Why are these all stuck together?”

_Dear God, please no…_

“Um…” He mutters unsure what to say.

The kid laughs again, rolling down the window in the process. “I’m just fucking with you.” Still laughing and unaware of Tony’s viable relief, he tosses the magazine out the window. “Bye-bye dude.”

Just then they pass a Pittsburgh sign, more leftover cars left in the shoulder. Peter shuffles with his bag to the passenger seat, contents inside a bit messy from his show and tell. He settles in the seat, organizing the contents of his bag as his inhaler comes into view again.

Tony eyes it for a few more seconds, eyes lingering until the kid shoved it further into his bag. There was a small silence between them, the music only filling the car. He clears his throat remember just how panicked the kid was when had that asthma attack.

“So um,” He finally gestures to the bag trying to form some words. “You’re ok on medicine right?”

The kid’s brows furrow, staring at him confused before it dawns on him. “Oh, yeah. Nat made sure I stocked up before the trip.”

“That’s uh, good,” He muttered lingering on the bag once more.

_Just how much did he have though?_

_How long would it take them before they needed to track down an inhaler?_

Sensing his distressed, Peter turned towards him. “I’m fine by the way. It’s only mild asthma, I can run and stuff.”

“But clearly something-“

The kid sighs. “I think it was the mold in the school. The closed-in area just made things worse.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “But the spores don’t affect you?”

Pete only shrugs. “I guess my lungs are immune to that stuff too?”

“You know not the strangest thing I’ve heard nowadays,” He says staring at the road ahead. Worry grows within him, mind going through countless scenarios. “But I all seriousness, you tell me when an attack might spring up.”

“Couldn’t really talk the last time.”

“Peter,” He sighs gaze going stern. “I mean it, you need to tell me these things. Next time we may not have a chance to take a breath.”

“Trust me I’ve gotten the speech from Steve plenty of times.”

“I may not agree with everything he does but he’s right about this one. Inhalers are not easy to come by.”

“No shit,” The kid deadpans. “I’ve dealt with this my whole life.”

“Then you know how hard it will be when you run out-“

“All you have to do is mix a few inhaled corticosteroids together that basic asthma inhalers use. I already know how to do it.”

Tony blinks a few times staring at the kid then the road. He presses his lips together, slightly amazed at the kid’s nonchalant statement. Of course, he knows what components go into inhalers.

“Beclomethasone, budesonide, ciclesonide, flunisolide,” Peter just ramble off names with a shrug. “Trust me I have this handled.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be in the loop.”

“You got it,” The kid salutes leaning forward to turn up the music.

_I said, shoot to thrill, play to kill._

_I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will._

“I guess someone likes my old man music huh?” Tony smirks nodding along to the music.

“Eh, it’s not too bad,” Pete yawns.

“Why don’t you try getting more sleep,” He offers, lowering the music just a tad. “We still got a long way to go.”

“I’m not that tried,” The kid mutters yawning some more.

“Uh-huh.”

________

Tony drove for a while, quietly humming along to AC/DC songs as the kid snores softly. Peter was out a few minutes after their last conversation, messy curls falling into his face. The kid looked so peaceful, so innocent that he had an overwhelming urge of protective parental nature taking over once more.

_He was growing attached and he didn’t like that one bit._

The storm cleared up within the hour, sunlight finally peeking out from the gray skies fully. Some warmth filled the car, a comfortable atmosphere settling in. Infected were barely seen, only a few stragglers limping along as they passed. Truth be told, it would seem like the old world again if the overgrown foliage and rusted cars didn’t break the illusion.

The closer they got to the Pittsburgh quarantine zone the more forgotten man-made structures appeared. Boarded up buildings were covered in plant life and decaying brick probably teeming with freaks. Cars sat in clusters, a decaying body hanging out of one window. The highway still remained open, the bombings not as heavy as they were back in Boston.

Tony glanced at the structures, a part of him missing the bustling streets of New York. He loved that city; grew up there, married there, was going to have a kid there. But now that was long gone, the city left in ruins and infected. There was no point in going back, even if his house was on the outskirts of the inner city, it was still a large risk.

All he knew was the quarantine zone barely worked there, too small to contain the infected. Hence the reason why Rhodey and him headed to Boston. They needed somewhere to go and that was the closest. Boston was a hell hole but he just happy it didn’t end up like New York and more importantly Pittsburgh.

Like Boston, it was one of the strong ones; large population and military presence. But they couldn’t keep the peace, Avengers and other civil unrest lead to the downfall of the zone. The stories he heard of fleeing people were ones of lynched soldiers and some gang taking over the place. The rations stopped, infected crowded, people fled — _circle of life._

Tony blinked some of the sleep away, yawning as the stretch of the city came into view. He wasn’t going to see much, mostly just passing over the top of the zone and onward to Rhodey’s. Highway to Hell began playing in the background, another fond memory coming to the surface causing him to smile until he saw what was ahead of him.

He leaned up in his seat, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He cursed slowing the car down, taking in the sight in front of him.

“No, no, no.”

His main way to Rhodey’s, the road leading him away from the zone blocked by a large cluster of cars. Planted grew within them, tall grass covering many of the rusting vehicles. There was no getting passed them, they were stuck.

“Well perfect,” He muttered stopping the car.

Peter slowly woke up behind him, left hand rubbing his eye as he yawned. The kid looks much younger than he was at that moment, eyes finally settling on their blocked path.

“Now what?” The teen yawns watching as Tony glances behind him.

He takes a look at the road they covered, sighing again at the thought of backtracking. They already made it this far and now they have to retrace their steps. He finally turns back around to the open road leading into the zone. His gaze lingered, another option sitting right in front of him. Going further in definitely had its risks: other groups, infected, but still better than going back.

He puts the car in gear, turning the wheel to the other exit. “Screw it.”

They drive further in, Peter marveling again at the tall buildings. The road was mostly free, the area around them just as quiet as the road they traveled on. Still, in this case, he knew something had to be lurking about. He just wouldn’t stay long enough to find out.

They drive under streetlights and passed alleys, music still quietly playing. They come to a main stretch of road, all clear except for a hooded figure slowly hobbling out to the center. The man looks at them with worried eyes, blocking their path as Tony comes to a sudden stop.

He waves them down, clutching his stomach like he was in pain. “P-Please help!”

“Holy shit-“

Tony stares at the man for a few more seconds not liking this picture. He stares at the man’s stomach, noticing the lack of blood. He stays calm, eyes darting over to Peter looking worried for the man.

“Put your seatbelt on, Pete,” He mutters as the kid follows his instructions.

The man moves closer still clutching at his side. He knew this trick, he knows exactly what this guy wanted.

“Weren't not gonna help him?”

_You naive kid._

“He’s not even hurt,” He responds pressing on the gas and charging at the man.

What happens next is a cluster fuck of poorly planned out plans.

The man realizing they were onto him springs up, gun drawn as he yells out. A few more of his buddies jump out from their hiding places behind cars, guns, and bats charging at them. Gunshots go off, one cracking the windshield as Tony keeps pressing the gas. He hits the man, casting him off to the side as a brick hits their truck.

He serves to avoid more shots, Peter’s window becoming shattered by a metal pipe. The kid gasps, glass falling over him as he looks at Tony in panic. The sunlight suddenly goes dark, his head whipping to the side only to see some guy freeing a bus to crash into them.

_“Oh fuck!”_

It slams into them, Highway to Hell ironically still playing as their car does a 360. They screeched into a garage, plowing passed another car as he tries to stabilize the vehicle.

“Hold on!” He yells thankful he at least told the kid to put his seatbelt on.

They slam through a metal door, car finally crashing into the concrete wall. The wall stops them, their bodies flying forward as the windshield shatters. Tony nearly hits his head on the steering wheel, arms just breaking his fall. He heaves, hissing in pain by the whiplash. The music still plays, gunshots going quiet.

“I-I’m okay,” The kid mutters trying to calm himself down. “I-I’m okay.”

Tony wipes some glass off of him, already feeling his body protest as he moves. “Then get out quick.”

He wants to say more, to check the kid over but right now they needed to get anyway from those men. Peter unbuckled his seatbelt breathing heavily, his car door suddenly ripping open as a man stands there.

“C’Mere you,” He says latching onto the kid as he begins pulling him out.

The kid fights back, arms flailing as he tries to land a hit. Tony grabs his foot, desperately trying to pull the kid back in.

“Let go of me, you chickenshit!”

They struggle for a few more seconds before Tony's door flies open. Another man tackles him, slamming his head against the console before dragging him onto the hard pavement. The kid escapes his grasp, the other evil guy dragging him away as well.

“ _Mr. Stark!”_ Peter cries out in panic.

Tony struggles to get up, adrenaline pumping through him as the man once again drags him up from the floor. He's suddenly shoved through a glass door, shards breaking as his head hits it. The man’s hand stays at the back of his neck, pulling him back before trying to slam his neck onto the shard still in the door.

He stops his head from going down, hands firmly placed on the sides of the door fighting to keep the crazy man from killing him. The kid fights in the background, panic suddenly gripping his lungs. They struggle for a few more moments, Tony finally managing to pull away. He swings his free arm, elbowing the man in the nose. Acting on the man's daze form, he shoves him onto the shard, glass cutting his neck as blood spills out.

His attacker falls to the ground choking on his blood, life draining out of his eyes as Tony whips around to find Peter. He finds him a few feet away, just as the other evil dude backhands him. The kid falls to the ground, his attacker kicking the boy in the stomach.

_“You little shit!”_

_“Get off of me!”_

Tony charges at the kid's attacker, full force knocking the man to the ground. Anger consumes him, narrowed watching as Pete tries to catch his breath in pain. He takes the attacker by the hair, using all his force to slam the guys head into the pavement a few times. Blood splatters, the attacker jerking at each hit. Once the man stops moving, he leaves him there in his own pool of blood.

Peter coughs, clutching his side as he’s helped up. “Motherfucker.” A bruise immediately starts forming on the kid’s face, eyes darting to his attack. “What is wrong with these guys?!”

“Come on,” Tony huffs dragging the kid along towards the care. He grabs their bags, throwing the kid his. “Catch your breath, we’re leaving.”

Checkups could be later, they needed to get somewhere safe.

“Kay…” The teen nods rubbing his jaw. He suddenly looks up, eyes widening as he tugs Tony’s sleeve. “Watch out!”

A gunshot goes off, shattering the car’s window that was right by him. Tony panics, grabbing the kid and dragging him towards some form of cover. More crazy men advance into the room guns drawn and ready to fire.

“Stay down!”

They hide behind some shelves, gunshots raining down as the metal moves. More voices echoed from within, the kid scrambling to grab his makeshift ax. Their eyes meet, both panicked and trying to find their next cover. Tony grabs his shotgun, cocking the gun as one man tries to round the corner. He fires as the man flies backward, blood pooling from his chest. They inched forward, trying to get far away from their crashed car.

They run behind the cashier counter, the last four men unaware of their movements. They whisper among themselves, guns shooting about recklessly. Peter opens his bag, pulling out a familiar tin can they used the day before.

“May have stolen some bombs from Bruce as well,” The kid whispers just peeking over the counter.

He beams. “Oh, you little genius.”

As the kid aims his shit for the room men out in the open, Tony switches to his pistol aiming at another dude. For now, their backs were turned to them, idiots trying to find them with bullets. Peter chucks the nail bomb towards the men, them just noticing the device as it goes off. Nails explode across the room tearing the idiots apart as they drop to the floor. Taking the commotion as his chance, he fires at his dude killing him instantly.

More idiots flood the place, eyes focused on the three dead bodies as they make their way through a broken window. Together they huddle in an alley right behind a dumpster as the men can out to search for them. They stay there for a few moments, dangerously still too close to many of the men. Another idiot checks the alleyway they’re in, back turned as he checks behind another dumpster.

Tony lunges, arms wrapping around the man’s neck as he quietly strangles him. He applies pressure, waiting until the man falls limp in his arms. They stay pressed against the bricks, the crazy group still lurking around them.

Together, they weave around the room using different covers to take out the remaining men. It’s another game of cat and mouse, the idiots helplessly finding more of their group dead unable to spot them. Tony manages to get the jump on two more guys, their bodies slumping to floor with shivs sticking out of their necks. Peter, on the other hand, finds the final guy freaking out about his pal. Once his back turned away, his metal pipe came crashing into the man’s skull. His body slumps forward, Tony making sure he was dead with a single bullet.

They both heave heavy breaths, still on edge from previous events. All the men were dealt with, but they knew that wasn’t the last of this group. These attacks were somewhat organized, their numbers were probably huge at this point.

Their truck that went through hell to fix up remains smashed, broken windows littering the floor. Smoke comes from the engine, tires popped from the onslaught of bullets. The cassette tape still played as Peter trudged over to pull it free from the car. He puts it back in his bag clearly not wanting to part with it just yet.

“You okay?” He huffs taking another bitter look at the car.

He takes a step forward hand already reaching out to cup the kid’s face. Tony doesn’t realize what he’s doing for a few moments, eyes mostly focused on the growing bruise under the kid’s eye. His gaze finally finds Peter, brain suddenly realizing what he’s doing. His hand drops, body taking him a few steps back.

_What—_

_What is he doing?_

_Shit._

“I guess so,” The teen responds looking at him curiously.

“Good,” He says creating a bit of distance from them. His brain shifts into business mode, survival instincts finally taking over. His stupid emotions can wait. “We need to get the hell out of here. You know the drill, look around, and see if we can find anything useful.”

“Roger that.”

They split up searching the small area of the overpass. Trash and graffiti were everywhere, stores, and other shops already broken into. The group blocked part of the street off with containers, using the zone defenses as their own. They needed a way out and going back the way they came wasn’t a great option.

Taking a look at the auto shop they crashed into, he found the only few supplies left. Mostly new nails for bombs but still a much-needed tool. The men didn’t have much on them like he hoped but they did have a bit of ammo.

“Hey!” The kid calls over to him from across the street. “I think we can get out through here.”

Tony made his way over to another fenced-in bit, eyes finally seeing what the kid was talking about. It was another garage, graffiti displaying a skull with tentacles. The green paint looked fresh, definitely not a zone marking.

“I can’t really lift it,” The kid adds, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“I got it,” He sighs already used to his joints hating him.

He gets his footing ready, arms struggling to lift the heavy door. The metal creaked like before, bitter memories of the downtown infected trying to eat them coming back. He curses some more getting the door up enough for a person to fit under. His arms shake at the weight knowing he can’t hold on forever.

“Alright,” Tony huffs. “Go under, see if you can get something to keep this up.”

Peter crawls under as he struggles under the weight. The kid sort of just stands there for a second worrying him even more.

“Um…” The kid trails off sounding disturbed. “There’s some pretty gnarly stuff in here.”

_Great._

“Pete!”

“Right, hold on!”

Another moment of struggle goes by, weight almost becoming too much for him. The door finally lets up, the kid tugging on something before it stays up on its own. Tony crawls under, barely off the ground before helping the kid lower the door back down. With one finally creak, he turns around eyes landing on the gnarly sight Peter was distressed about.

Two dead bodies laid on metal tables shirtless and with gunshot wounds to the head. On the floors laid piles of clothes, blood staining the concrete. Shoes, jackets, shirts, and so forth laid there displaying the _many_ people that weren’t so lucky. The kid only shuffled to the side, hands grabbing a few scissors for his ax. He avoided the bodies as much as possible, face a bit paler.

Tony stares a bit longer, backing into a shelf with other bloody tools. He cringes at the thought, eyes landing on something useful. Smoke bombs, four of them just waiting for the taking. He stashes them, eyes falling back onto the kid staring at the sight in front of him.

“What is this…” His voice sounds small, a hint of fear breaking through.

“Hunters,” He states grimly. “Savages really.”

“That’s a lot of people you didn’t make it,” Peter responds sadly.

_Fuck._

_They should not be here right now_.

“I knew I should’ve turned the car back around,” He sighs taking a look around the room.

“I mean we lived.”

Tony finds a note with that same symbol, a detailed list of the inventory of the room, and the day’s intake. He grows sick at the large number of clothes and other stuff, eyes catching some scribbled writing at the bottom.

_Hail Hydra._

He hates it here even more.

“Barely,” He finally answers crumbling the note with disgust. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

A quick jaunt out of the room and they’re climbing up some steps trashed a smelling just as bad as that room. They silently walk up a few sets of stairs before the kid finally speaks again.

“How did you know about the ambush.”

He pauses. “I’ve been on both sides.”

“Oh…”

The conversation ends there and Tony can’t help but feel the kid pull away slightly. Guilt sits heavy in his gut, the thought of him sharing something in common with those freaks haunting him. Sure he’s down a few unsavory things in past like ambushes but he never has taken it to Hydra’s extreme. Hunters were some low lives that deserved a special place in hell.

They open another door into a hallway of an old office, trash, and old floors rotting away. Another door sat at the end of the hall as a makeshift bedroom sat to their side in another room.

“So have you uh,” The kid sounded nervous as they entered the room. “Killed innocent people?”

Tony stops in his tracks, eyes looking at the innocents the kid still had. He takes another breath, guilt still lingering.

_Yes._

“It’s complicated.”

“I still think you're a good person though,” Peter adds playing with the hem of his shirt.

_I’m not._

He doesn’t respond, only looking around where the assholes once slept. Their beds were filthy like the room, stained and probably crawling with bugs. Sure the apocalypse didn’t have many bed choices but that didn’t mean not taking care of your fucking space. These men lived like pigs, savages.

_God, he just wants to get out of here._

They check another room that leads to a dead end. Inside it only had a workbench and other shelves, nothing that really caught the eye expect an ambush map. Tony rips it off the wall staring at the exact place they got ambushed. The bus ramp was noted and the cars blocking their original path mentioned as a funnel to get people deeper in their territory.

When they finally make it outside again, the summer heat sets in. They’re still in a fenced-in area, barbed wire stretching to tops of the fence. Straight ahead laid the horrid sight of a pile of ashes and burnt bodies.

_Savages._

“I don’t think these guys were infected.”

“Just don’t look,” He ushers the kid away and up some more stairs. Once at a high point, Tony spots the yellow bridge in distance. “Alright that’s the bridge and our way-“

Peter just goes on ahead, hopping back onto the street level. He sighs following after him worried about him freely walking.

“Peter, Wait for me.” He huffs.

“What?” The kid asks a bit too loud for his liking. “I’m right here.”

He sighs once more trying not to get frustrated with the kid. “How about you let me go first and keep your voice down.”

“Okay,” The teen mocks in a lower octave.

_God, he misses the car._

_______

Pressing forward, they traveled along the highway of the city. Crashed cars and buses blocked most of the roads, nature slowly taking back the city. During the short jaunt, the kid finally learned to whistle seemingly another talent he picked up pretty quickly. They didn’t take much during their walk, both still on edge from the idea of more of those guys lurking around.

The Pittsburgh’s entrance to the old quarantine zone came into view and that’s were their trouble has just started.

As expected, more Hydra freaks were hanging out by the zone shooting at birds from car tops. Thus, another game of stealth began as they tried to use many covers of overgrown bushes and cars to stay hidden. The three asshats mostly stayed away, two idiots leaving their friend behind only to earn an arrow through his eye. The others walked off the way they came, talking about some other group they just killed.

Not dwelling on those two any longer, they climbed over a bus and went into the actual zone. The remains looked like they did in Boston except for the Hydra art and graffiti of people demanding rations. Pittsburgh didn’t stand a chance with their population in the end.

The further they walked into the zone, the more Hydra men they saw. All talking among themselves like hunting people was a normal thing to do. They still had an element of surprise here but not for too long. Arrows were an easy way to go, a few bottle throws here and there to distract the crowd before he rain arrows down upon them. But these men were everywhere and bow shots couldn’t cut It half the time.

Together they came across a few close calls of being found out. A bow-shot or in some cases, strangulation or a shiv before hunters could call for backup. Other times they were left whacking men with metal pipes just to clear the area.

Somehow they were able to get clear of most of them, working as a team as they weave through a small shopping complex. They stumbled through a back alley parking lot, two skeletons of once soldiers hanging by their necks. They pressed on ignoring the sight for the kid’s sake, he didn’t need to be scared that much.

After traveling through alleyways, they went back onto a main stretch of road only to find the area flooded. Peter not being able to swim had to wait by the wayside watching as Tony swam around looking for a pallet.

Just as he found one floating, a vehicle rolls by over a small bridge. He freezes hiding behind an overgrown bush watching as the military Humvee drives by. He curses as the truck comes to a stop, gunfire unleashed as a girl screamed.

This place was actual hell, they needed to get out of here.

He got back to the kid pretty quickly, using the pallet to carry him until they reached an old coffee shop. They look around for supplies, Tony wishing that there were some coffee beans remaining.

_God, he misses coffee._

They pressed forward, traveling through a trashed and flooded hotel. Mostly uneventful, just a bunch of climbing trying to find some way out of the flooded areas. That was until Peter being the annoying kid he is found some joke book and instantly took a liking towards.

“It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope. It’ll still be stationery.”

“Kid-“

His laughter cuts him off, the excited four-year-old at the moment flipping through the pages. “I tried to catch some fog earlier. I mist.”

“Oh my God,”

Peter only laughs harder.

________

After another endless round of traveling through the hotel and taking down Hydra hunters, they finally made some ground by cutting through an elevator shaft. The hunters set up a series of ladders, creaking metal, not at all reassuring but much quicker in the end.

Squeeze through another area, they both slowly step onto the actual top of an elevator. The wires shook and strained but held their weight thankfully. Above them was another entrance to the floor, light shining into the dim elevator shaft.

He gestures to the kid to climb up. “Find me something to climb on.”

Peter hops up pretty easily Spider-Man style. Tony helps him a little, listening to the wires and elevator screech a little too much for his liking. The kid finally clears the ledge when the whole elevator starts to shake. He stumbles back trying to catch his footing as the teen desperately reaches a hand out. Suddenly the wires give out, elevator and him going into free fall.

“Oh shit!”

He slams against the metal grating, the kid screaming his name as he plunges into the darkness below.


	11. Embracing the Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Painfully, Tony’s back hits the water, body engulfed by the chilling liquid. He sinks for a few moments, mind still dazed by the fall and pain. When he finally surfaces, he comes up gasping and coughing for air. Through his panic, he latches onto a piece of broken wood using it to float. He rasps out another shaky breath, anxiety very close in pushing him over the edge.
> 
> “Mr. Stark!”
> 
> He gags at the water going through his nose, breathing heavily. 
> 
> “Tony?!”
> 
> His gaze darts upward, ears finally recognizing the kid’s fearful voice. 
> 
> “I’m alright!” He calls out as the elevator sinks below him, metal deathtrap sinking into the dark waters. “Are you alright?!”
> 
> “No!” The kid cries nearly emotional. “You scared the shit out of me!”
> 
> From this distance, he couldn't quite see the expression sitting upon Peter's face. He could hear the panicked breaths, almost whimper like sounds echoing down the shaft. The image and sounds were enough for him to break his gaze, eyes search the water-filled area that saved his sorry ass from becoming a pancake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore, guns, and drugs/alcohol

Painfully, Tony’s back hits the water, body engulfed by the chilling liquid. He sinks for a few moments, mind still dazed by the fall and pain. When he finally surfaces, he comes up gasping and coughing for air. Through his panic, he latches onto a piece of broken wood using it to float. He rasps out another shaky breath, anxiety very close in pushing him over the edge.

_ “Mr. Stark!” _

He gags at the water going through his nose, breathing heavily. 

_ “Tony?!” _

His gaze darts upward, ears finally recognizing the kid’s fearful voice. 

“I’m alright!” He calls out as the elevator sinks below him, metal deathtrap sinking into the dark waters. “Are you alright?!”

“ _ No!”  _ The kid cries nearly emotional. “You scared the shit out of me!”

From this distance, he couldn't quite see the expression sitting upon Peter's face. He could hear the panicked breaths, almost whimper like sounds echoing down the shaft. The image and sounds were enough for him to break his gaze, eyes search the water-filled area that saved his sorry ass from becoming a pancake.

“I-I’m gonna climb down there-“

“No!” He yells back, panicking as the kid inches closer to the drop. “It’s too deep for you! I’ll find my way back to you okay?”

Peter shakes his head, frustrated with the situation. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

“No shit!”

Not wanting to waste any more time, Tony swims into another flooded room. His calm demeanor crumbles, trembling figure clutching onto a waterlogged shelf. Cold fingers grip the metal until his knuckles turn white desperately trying to stop the panicked breaths escaping him. 

_ Shit, he almost just died there _ .

_ The kid is up there alone- _

_ Alone- _

_ Fuck, please be ok. _

Lingering in the cold waters he forces himself to reign in his panicked breathing. The waters only got deeper the further he traveled in. He needed his breaths if he was ever going to make it out of this damn place. Right now, it didn't matter that his body was going into shock, diving was the only way back to the kid.

Back to Peter, who vastly outnumbered, _outgunned_ in this hellhole they stumbled into.

_ Why the fuck did he not turn around back at the highway?! _

________

Tony doesn’t know how long he’s been swimming for but the moment he sees the third decaying body chilling underwater, he decides he’s had enough. He surges passed the dead man, surfacing in a room not filled to the brim with water. He rasps out a pained breath, lungs taking in the much-needed air. 

Stumbling out of the waters, he rests his hands against the dirty floors taking in the room before him. It was clearly the basement area of the hotel, the laundry area taken over by flooding and years of decay. Tony mutters curses to himself, rising to his feet as soaking a cold mess.

He presses on bitter about his situation, but surely, n othing else could possibly worsen this shitty day.

_ It did. _

_ It was fucking spores. _

And not just any old spores, a clusterfuck of infected bodies growing all over the damn place. There was a reason why up above they didn't encounter freaks and this hotel hell was one glorious explanation.  Now with a gas mask dawn over his face, he travels through the horrid area listening to the wondrous sounds of clickers and runners hobbling about.

The runners erratically jerk around the room, irritated forms affected by the loud noise of the elevator plunging into the water.  Clickers stayed in their spots, periodically limping to one side. He sighed at the sight in front of him, both groups clustered together. There was no stealthing this, only bombs and guns.

Tony had a nail bomb ready, aiming for the largest cluster as he hid behind a wall. He only peeled around when tossing it, listening to the screeching of the infected as they got pelleted with nails. The other remaining went into a frenzy, two runners surging towards him as the clickers hobbled towards their friends. 

Shots littered their two bodies, forms slumping to the floor as the last three clickers finally heard him. Tony stumbles back, Molotov in hand as he tosses it at the group. He watches them burn, breathing heavily as he waits for more freaks to come out. 

Behind him, an angry shuffling sound makes the hairs on his neck stick up. It's the sound; rise and fall of running, shuffling feet lingering in the room. Quickly he whirls around, shotgun in hand only to be met with the empty vast darkness. Panic coursed through him, gun at the ready as he tried to settle his breathing. He waited, mind kicking into overdrive when finally behind a spore filled wall, lunged one of his least favorite infected types.

A half runner, half clicker -- an infected corpse stuck in between.  All the strength of clickers, eyes still not blinded by the spores. And especially hunger and determination of the runner all without their mindless frenzy.

_ Stalkers, the fucking freaks that always managed to send a chill down his spine. _

The freak charged at him, spores spouting out of its bloody eyes with a snarl. Tony unloaded about four shells into the thing, breathing heavily as he stumbled backward as his eyes caught another stalker darting for another cover. 

That was the worst part about these assholes, _the hiding._ They didn’t just charge at you, no they hid, snarling enough to make anyone lose their cool. These freaks toyed with their prey, hunting them.

It was only a waiting game now. 

Tony, however, knew the game well, his body perfectly still as he waited out the freak. It was only a matter of time before it gave in to its runner side of desperation and charge at its prey. 

When the stalker did, he was already uploading two more shells into the spore head of the freak. It slumps to the ground with one last snarl, its body jerking before falling lifeless. Reloading his shotgun, he waits for more shuffling, eyes scanning the spore filled room.  When nothing came out, he pressed forward hellbent on finding the kid and getting the hell out of here.

He travels through the spore filled area some more, taking out another group of clickers thankful that any stalkers down here shifted to clickers. Once their bodies hit the floor, he finally made it out and into the main and non-infected area. 

With a heavy sigh, he rips the mask off running a hand through his wet and matted hair. He walks through a few more rooms finally finding the kitchen of the hotel and more Hydra goons.

_ Of course. _

An infected trashed around in the kitchen, screeching as it kicks around the scattered trash. The two men move in on the freak, still unaware of his presence. Tony hides behind an island, eyes watching as the clicker tries to lunge at the Hydra hunters. 

A shot fires off, blood spattering against the subway tiles. The clicker falls, body still jerking in its own blood. 

“It’s down, finish it!”

“I got it!” The closest hunter finishes the freak off with another shot. 

“Nicely done, any bites?”

“Not today. You?”

“All good,” The man pauses, gun drawn. “Spread out, I want to make sure there aren’t any more of those fuckers.”

_ Shit. _

The other goon goes back through the kitchen doors leaving the man by the clicker. Tony doesn’t move for a good few seconds, hand gripping a bottle tightly. He watches the hunter intently, watching his moves as he inches closer to his hiding spot. When the man turns his back, he chucks the bottle waiting until it smashes on the hunter’s head. 

While the man was still dazed, he charges forward arms wrapping around his neck and strangling him. With the man down, he stealthy leaves the kitchen only to encounter more goons.

_ This place was crowded with these assholes _ .

The group in the dining room fans out, guns drawn as they look for more infected. Buffet tables are still left out, tables knocked over on its side. Trash once more litters the place, old cans left by the hunters with no care. In this place they seemed not to care about their surroundings, only the stuff they could nab from others. The hotel’s windows were mostly boarded, probably some attempt long ago to keep infected out. 

Tony inches forward, weaving through covers left by the kitchen and dining room. The men had their guard down a little bit, all unaware of an actual living person in their midst. A few more silent takedowns happen, men falling to the floor with snapped necks. His cover still remains as he presses to the center of the room.

Booths sit there decaying, a pile of cushions sitting by the wayside most likely used for bedding. A small water hole takes up some of the floor, mostly clear from the rainfall. The last remaining goon sits with his back turned to Tony, smoking a pack of cigarettes. His feet are up, relaxing without realizing his men are all dead.

_ Idiot. _

Metal pipe in hand, he arcs his arm smashing the goon across the head. The man gasped in surprise, hitting the gross carpet dazed. He stumbles to find his gun, head already getting a few good blows. He stops moving after the fifth hit, blood staining the carpet as Tony sighs. 

He glances around the room looking for any more goons before walking back towards an elevator shaft. He crosses around the shallow bits of the pool, eyes landing on a ladder he could use. He picks up the rusted thing, leaning it against the closed elevator door climbing up to the next floor. A yellow cloth hangs over the rotting wood as his hand just touches the next floor.

A pair of feet suddenly landed in front of his gaze, another goon surprising him. The man sends his boot into Tony’s face, hitting his nose hard as he falls off the ladder. He gasps landing in the pool of water inhaling a bit. He surfaces, gagging as his face burns. His eyes water, face throbbing from the impact of the kick. He barely gets his bearings before the man shoves him back in.

The hunter’s hand wrapped around his neck, choking him while trying to drown him at the same time. Tony struggles to fend off the man as his lungs burn. His hand manages to grab the man’s throat, hurting him enough to surface once more. He elbows the hunter, gasping for air before being shoved face-first into the water. 

His head is pressed against the wood, back turned as the man puts all his weight on to Tony. He’s trapped underwater, struggling to hold his breath and break free. His eyes snap open under the water, his free hand trying to reach for his fallen gun just a few inches away. He heaves, fingers trying to grab his pistol as his vision darkens. 

He panics just as another hand grabs the gun, taking it from his grasp. A shot goes off, blood hitting the water as the man slumps off beside him. Tony surfaces, gagging and gasping for air in an anxiety-ridden state. He stares at the hunter's body, eyes narrowing as his head whips around. His brows raise at the person standing over him with the same panicked expression.

_ Peter _ .

The kid holds his gun in both hands, arms shaking as smoke comes from the barrel. They stare at each other for a few more moments, Tony looking away to throw up some water he swallowed. He gags stumbling out of the dirty water panic still gripping his lungs.

“M-Man…” The kid mutters still looking at the guy then the gun. “I shot the hell out of him huh?”

“Yeah,” He rasps throat raw, eyes staring at the sight of the kid and gun. It makes him sick again, panic mostly taking over. “S-Sure did.”

Peter sits down on a crate breathing heavily. “Oh God, that’s a first.” He stares at the body turning the water red. “Now I feel sick.”

Guilt runs through Tony like wildfire, mind unable to get the image of the kid holding the gun out of his head. Peter was just a fucking kid, he didn’t need to be shooting people. The nail bomb was different, a gun was just so  _ personal _ .

_ He’s fucking the kid up. _

_ He’s ruining him. _

Angrier with himself, he takes the gun back. “I thought I told you to stay back.”

“Well, you’re glad I didn’t?” The kid gestures to the hunter. “Right?”

_ Yes.  _

_ Peter shouldn’t have to do that. _

_ Push him away, push him- _

“I’m just glad I didn’t get my head blown off by a goddamn kid,” He snaps, his invisible mask returning in its full glory. 

The kid looks hurt briefly, brows furrowing in frustration. “You know what?  _ No _ .” He stands up and kicks up some water at him. “How about hey, Peter, I know that wasn’t easy but it was either him or me. So thanks for saving my grouchy ass.”

_ You're ruining him, you're ruining him- _

“You got anything like that for me, Stark?” The kid shoves him.

_ Thank you, I’m sorry. _

“We gotta get going,” He huffs off not daring to look at the kid right now.

“Dick,” Peter sneers behind him.

Tony tries not to show just how much that hurt him.

________

Walking through the rundown hotel was much different this time. There wasn’t normal ease to their conversations, a sense of odd normalcy settling in. Instead, it was more tension, an agonizing silence between the two. 

The kid was angry, he had every right to be. Tony was a dick back there, the near-death experience and anxiety not helping his case either. His mind wouldn’t stop panicking once he saw Peter with a gun, the innocence leaving the boy as the hunter’s blood floated in the water. Too many times had he'd seen a person’s innocence leave them, a sudden switch going off as they take out a living person, someone not infected.

He never wants to see Peter hold his gun again, let alone kill people. But deep down, he knew that sooner or later the kid was going to need a gun. He couldn’t be a kid anymore, he had to grow up much sooner than Tony ever did.

_ He fucking hates his world. _

The rooms they traveled through were nothing too noteworthy. Empty conference rooms still holding the remains of random statistics used for a meeting. The floors and walls, in general, were trashed, a clear sign of other hunters not living in this area. They were smart in this sense, staying clear of the freaks lurking down below.

It’s another quick jaunt through the upper floor before they even see a glimpse of the outside again. The tension still remains but Tony was almost certain that the kid cracked a smile once they worked their way down from a caved-in baloney. Vines covered the sides, birds singing and flying near Peter in their happy demeanor.

“We uh,” He mutters guilt still sitting in his gut. His nerves were on edge, heart still thumping loudly in his chest. “We need to get back out, find the bridge.”

Peter barely made eye contact with him, huffing a small sigh passed his lips. “Whatever Stark, just tell me where to go.”

_ Right, so he was still mad… _

They pressed forward, eyes still scanning the remnants of the hotel for any more Hydra freaks. Their group was large enough to cover a good chunk of the city, they had to be lingering somewhere else. 

Passing smelly bathrooms and decaying trash, they cautiously traveled through more hallways. The floors were worn away, water damage still pretty evident even a floor or two above the shitshow he landed in. They mostly stumbled blindly through the halls, unsure where the hotel could lead them outside and away from this mess. The sunlight was their only indicator, the light coming from a large room at the end of the mess in front of them. 

When finally approaching the door, they were able to see the vast ballroom. Fancy yellow curtains hung from the boarded windows, tables still mostly in place. A beach backdrop hung in the back, remains of an old photo booth sitting next to it. The room, in general, looked better than the halls, less decay, and clearly less trash. 

On the other side, a stage stood intact. Dusty and worn from the years passing by but still holding strong. Other than the dust, a grand piano sat center stage. Above laid another balcony with the floor slightly caving in. From the stage, it wasn’t reachable, no ladders in sight to use the exit. 

Tony stares at the piano then the hole, fingers tapping along the woodwork before glancing back to the kid. He almost stirs up a conversation about his mom and the countless hours they spent at a piano just like this one. The words fall short however, once he looks at the kid, still quite pissed off. He moves on, towards the task at hand.

“We might be able to use this to get up there.” He points already heaving as he tries to move the heavy instrument. “Goddamn, heavier than I thought.”

The kid scoffs, leaning against a wall. He watches Tony for a few more seconds, losing eye contact once he finally glanced upward.

“Alright, can I get a hand with this?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged. “Are you sure you can trust me with this?”

_ You’re not the person I don’t trust. _

_ I don’t trust myself with you. _

He sighed guilt making a large pit in his stomach. “Pete…”

The kid finally walks over making sure to add another huff. Together they push the damn thing across the stage, wood scraping along like nails on a chalkboard. Tony can hear his mother yelling at him to treat the instrument with care, Pepper also agreeing with her smugly. He closed his eyes at the thought, voices so real he nearly could see them in the room with him.

But it didn’t matter, they were both fucking dead. Long gone and clearly not in some decaying hotel running from hunters. They never had to live in a zombie-infested world, they actually had some peace of mind.

The piano finally rams against the wall, out of tune strings echoing in the room. Dust flies upward, sunlight showing the cloud that coated the instrument. The kid sneezes, Tony’s eyes snapping up to watch him intently. Dust was covering this room, pollen probably mixing into the room from the broken windows. He stared a bit longer, mind already waiting for the kid to have another asthma attack. 

Peter wiped his nose, curiously staring back at the man. A few seconds passed, the kid finally letting out an airy laugh as he hops onto the piano.

“The dust just made me sneeze,” He grunts, pulling himself up onto the balcony. He hops up looking back down at Tony with less of a frown. “My lungs don’t hate me that much.”

He doesn’t say a word, only nodding as his already aching joints pull himself up to the next floor. When he finally gets up, dust covers his pants. He wipes them off, eyes scanning the not so save railings as he moves the kid forward. The last thing he needs is another fall scare and this time he didn’t have the privilege of water breaking his fall. 

Another quick jaunt into an upper party room is when they finally found another exit to the outside. The room, in general, was much smaller, chairs and tables still in their places from before. A wooden bar sat barren, any forms of alcohol picked cleaned. Glass covers the floor, balcony doors leading to recent add ons to the hotel. Metal poles connecting lookouts and storage areas among mounds of barbwire. Grass and other foliage crept onto the concrete, plant life directing his gaze to the rusty man-made structure.

Tony hops over the concrete railing avoiding the sharpened metal poles that didn’t need to be there. The wood creaks from under him, blue tarps hanging over the sides and blocking much of his view. Wooden pallets act as a half wall, a form of cover used in sniper nests. He turns only a few inches, gaze falling upon a rotting corpse sitting in a white fabric chair. Its hands clutch a rifle, pale and mostly bone grip still holding on. He yanked the gun from its grasp, fingers breaking off with a loud snap. He cringes, watching the dead body from fall to the side. 

“They haven’t gotten back yet,” A voice echoed down below. 

Tony’s head snaps up, eyes going wide at the sight of Hydra hunters standing down below. “Oh, shit,” He hisses, crouching down behind the pallets hoping his cover wasn’t blown. 

“What the hell is taking ‘em so long?”

That sentence only makes him grip the rifle tighter, anxiety slowly returning its grip around his lungs. He lets out a shaky breath, the kid finally hopping over into an abandoned sniper nest.

“I don’t know--” 

He whips his head away from the three men talking, hand already beckoning for the kid to get down and stay quiet. Peter’s eyes widen at the voices, wooden planks creaking as he tries to make his way over to a panicking Tony. 

“Keep your head down,” He whispers to the kid moving to keep Peter at an arm's length in case shit hit the fan. 

By the conversation, he could tell the Hydra assholes were getting suspicious of their missing men. Over the course of their trek through the city, they both managed to take out groups blocking their way. Whether that was the group at the blockade or the hotel, their little escapades wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. 

A breeze blows the blue tarp up slightly, the summer heat still beating down on them as the sun starts to lower in the sky. The kid lowers himself behind the half-wall, eyes watching the men intently not noticing Tony’s hand started to tremble. He wipes some sweat away, checking their surroundings once more trying to ease his reeling mind. 

_ God, he missed Maria. _

_ He needed a calming presence and she somehow knew how to ground him without saying a word.  _

_ Before it was Rhodey and Pepper, then Maria but now… _

_ He’s left panicking about the damn kid he stumbled upon.  _

“Alright,” He sighed, no solid plan in place except one aspect. Protect the kid at all costs. “I’m gonna jump down there and clear us a path.”

Peter glares at him for the hundredth time today with a sour expression. “And what about me?

He was challenging Tony, gaze fully focused on the man trying to put some sort of plan together. 

“You stay here,” He doesn’t meet his gaze, fully knowing the kid was about to protest. 

Peter’s eyes narrow, breathing through his nose with a huff. “This is so stupid,” He hissed shaking his head in frustration. “We’d have more of a fucking chance if you let me help.”

Tony doesn’t respond for a few more moments, staring ahead watching the men talk among themselves. There had to be more of those hunters lurking about and there was no telling how armed they were. The kid only tries to challenge his statement once more, earning no response as his eyes linger down to the rifle in his tight grip. He watches his knuckles turn white, sighing at the one thought coming to mind. 

_ Give the kid the gun. _

_ Keep him up here and safe. _

_ Fuck. _

He finally meets the kid’s gaze, heart thumping in his chest. “Trust me, kid, I’m letting you.” Peter blinks a few times dumbfounded as Tony shifts to give the gun to him. “You seem to know you're way around a gun. Reckon you can handle this?”

The kid takes the gun, still looking shocked at his words. “Well, uh -- I sorta shot a rifle before...” He trails off nervously. “At rats.”

“...Rats?”

_ He’s actually giving this kid a gun, a fucking rifle.  _

_ He’s only shot at rats. _

“With BB’s,” The kid shrugs.

_ God, he’s so young, too innocent for this hellhole. _

“Well,” Tony glances at the men once more. “I mean it’s the same basic concept.”

“Y-Yeah.”

He moves closer, gesturing for the kid to lift the gun up onto the half wall. “Alright now, you're gonna wanna lean right into the stock. Cause it’s gonna kick a hell of a lot more than any BB rifle.” Peter nods trying to get familiar with the gun as Tony moves on. “Okay, now go ahead and pull the bolt back.” 

He gestures to the bolt watching the kid tugging it as clicks happen within the gun. A bullet shell pops out, golden hue hitting the floor with a tiny clang as Peter cocks the gun. 

“Now as soon as you fire you're gonna want to get another round in there quick.” The kid nodded looking a lot more confident than before. Tony places a hand on his shoulder, trying to be somewhat comforting. “Listen to me Pete, if I get into trouble down there, you make  _ every shot count. _ ”

Peter smirks, “I got this, old man.”

An airy laugh escapes him, anxiety still there but not gripping his lungs so tight. He pats the kid on the shoulder, slowly creeping across the creaking wood towards the exit leading to a rusty ladder. He stops, hands clutching the hatch turning back to the kid. 

“And just so we’re clear about back there,” He begins, mask and guarded walls cracking ever so slightly. “It was either him or me.”

The kid only breaks out into a grin, giving him a small nod. They break eye contact, Tony finally pressing forward and down into the belly of the beast.

________

Once Tony finally reaches the street level, he still tries to remain hidden from the hunters. Just by the three men he saw, he knew others were probably standing in other areas and buildings. More blockades acted as his covers, zone gates, and other boarded-up structures allowing him to get close enough to hear the hunter’s conversation better.

They still remained in their small huddle, using the shade of the large trees to block the sun. Rusted cars acted as other blockade points, the hunters using a large amount of them to their benefit. The pavement along the streets was rocky and plant ridden, trees roots breaking up the old concrete. Up ahead stood the sight of the yellow bridge, another reminder of their only way out. 

“Assholes should have known better.” One hunter grunts kicking an empty beer bottle as he burps loudly. “If you're gonna steal, you better make sure you get away with it. Right?”

“I would have --” 

Fantic footsteps cut of the other man, another hunter huffing in panic as he ran up to his friends. “They’re all dead! They’re all  _ fucking dead! _ ” The other man stops running, body hunching over as he tries to catch his breath. 

_ Shit, they know.  _

“What the hell--?”

“What’s he yapping--?”

“Take a breath man, who’s dead?”

The voices overcrowd each other, the hunter’s voices were still eerily calm. Their attention turns to the man, beer bottles left unfinished. 

“The whole crew,” The fourth hunter heaves. “The 76 lookout guys, some fucking tourists killed them!  _ Killed all of them!” _

The hunters finally looked a bit panicked, the “leader guy” stepping forward with an arrogance. “Shit, have you talked to the boss?”

“Yeah, Pierce wants everyone to hold their ground. Watch the gate.”

The leader claps his hands together. “Alright boys, you heard him. Search the fucking area, don’t let anyone in.”

_ Of course, they just had to be aware of their presence now.  _

_ It never can be easy. _

Tony breaks off from his cover as the group goes their separate ways. A few more men appear up ahead, figures walking inward to their blockades. Stealthy he moves over to the break in the blockade - a mostly clear area overrun by grass. Two men stay near the area they originated in talking about their worries of the military coming back, as the third familiar dude breaks off alone. 

He follows behind, still out of sight waiting for the two men to turn their backs. When the chance arises, he pounces from his hiding place quickly placing the man in a chokehold. The hunter panics, struggling as he slowly crushes his windpipe. The man goes down without a cry, body slumped to the ground as Tony drags it away and out of sight. 

He finds himself staring at some old movie poster, a romance drama with a supernatural twist. It was supposed to be the new Twilight but then the world decided to end. Tony obviously had no intentions in seeing the movie until he saw Pepper nose deep in the books. The night he bought tickets to the premiere all ready to surprise his wife the day after his birthday, the day after the infected took over, the day she  _ died _ . Pieces of paper decaying away in his desk drawer never to be used, never to be seen.

Numbly he grabs onto the wedding rings around his neck, squeezing them until his knuckles go white. His vision focuses once more, a shaky breath escaping him as he glances at the sniper nest holding the kid. He blinks, grounding himself on the very thought of another person relying on him. Still hidden behind a police car, his gaze followed more men searching the area. His brain kicked into gear, somewhat of a stealthy plan appearing in his head. He surges forward, anxiety just a little bit easier to swallow.

_ It’s game time.  _

Sticking to his quickly thought plan of no guns, he manages to make a decent dent in the men’s numbers. Hunters being the idiots they were, broke off by themselves as few unlucky drunk men met their ends either through strangulation or arrow shots. Bodies hit the floor as quickly as he came through the area, decaying buildings and streets acting as his cover. 

Making his way further into camp, he took a shortcut through another office building. A few hunters lingered about, smoking and trying to steal goods for themselves. Those asshats were taken out pretty quickly, shivs handy for quick kills before he was found. He followed his same rules up the next two floors shifting from room to room taking out men or grabbing supplies they might need. 

By the time he sneaks back outside, the street was the same as he left it. Eerily left in ruins, remains of the old quarantine zone. Quietly with his bow in hand, he scanned the area, gaze landing on a single Hydra hunter with his back turned. He lined up the shot, arrow flying through the air as quickly as he loaded the next arrow. The man slumps to the pavement, blood spilling out as Tony worked his way back down to street level.

He retrieved the arrow from the dead hunter, making it pass the first gated area of the checkpoint. He quickly crosses the street to another covered area. A few men stood in a decaying store, remnants of a 7/11 covered in trash. The widows laid shattered on the floor, display cases and tables overturned as the two hunters sat in the corner enjoying a smoke. 

Another quick shot and the first man is down, his friend high and red-eyed fumbling to grab his gun. Before the idiot could fire a shot, an arrow pierced his neck blood spattering onto the table below. The hunter joins his friend on the floor, arrows soon retrieved as Tony once again jaunts back outside.

He continues his stealthy plan as he clears the area, mind racing as more men seemed to pop up. He quietly works around the area, a few glass bottles creating sound to lure unassuming hunters to their demise. Most of the hunters seemed to be too high to understand what was happening, higher-ups yelling at them as they swayed in their posts. 

Making a long loop around the area, Tony, cocky off the number of men he took out fired an arrow killing what he thought was a stray hunter. As the women fell with a strangled gasp, two of her pals appeared in the doorway guns drawn.

“Tourist, in here!”

“ _ Fuck!”  _

He sprints off, more hunters unleashing their gunfire at him. He stumbles behind a few cars for cover, breathing heavily as bullets pounded against the metal. Tony rips out his shotgun, firing off a few rounds before ducking back down against the vehicle. At least five men surrounded the car, bodies moving closer.

“Surrender now!” One called out to him with a thick southern accent.

“You’re fucked!” Another called out firing at the windows until they shattered.

_ No shit. _

Quickly he loads his gun ready to fire off a few more roads as another gunshot echoed in the air. Something hit the pavement as the other hunters gasped in panic.

“Shit, Ward—!”

“Another tourist—!”

Tony’s head snaps up in the direction of the sniper nest before gaping at the hunter dead on the ground. The kid actually managed — the fucking kid actually got a headshot. As Ward laid dead on the ground, the remaining men fanned out briefly distracted by the sudden shot killing their friend. Their guns were drawn, aimed towards the air as they tried looking for their attacker. 

Taking his chance, Tony fires two shots at the nearest asshat. The man hits the pavement at the same time as another rifle shot echoed in the air. The kid this time managed to hit the hunter’s shoulder, waiting a few seconds as the man cried out in pain. Another shot sounds off, a bullet hitting the wounded man right through the neck. He glared, hands clutching his neck as he slumped to the ground in shock, face going pale. 

The last two men standing duck for some cover in panic. They screamed at each other, mindlessly firing at Tony as he himself ducked for cover. 

“Where the fuck--?!”

“Stop yelling and fire at the tourist who shot Zola!”

“Well, another fucking tourist just killed Strucker!”

“Zemo, I swear--”

Another rifle shot rang through the air, both men shutting up as they tried to find some cover behind a dumpster. They stopped firing, sitting back to back with each other with panicked features. Their guns stayed clutch to their chest, heads ducked away trying desperately to find the kid firing down at them. Peter fires another shot at the men, a warning shot almost as it clangs against the metal dumpster startling both men. 

“Who even managed to let a sniper-” The unknown man stops talking, gun cocking as his weapons aim upward. “Old sniper nest!”

Tony’s eyes nearly bug out, legs already jumping upward and firing at the two men before they could fire their own guns. Zemo breaks away returning fire as his buddy tries to rain hell down onto Peter. The rifle shots stop, the familiar blue tarp becoming riddled with bullet holes. 

Panicking, as he tries to find another form of cover as Zemo stayed behind his. This hunter knew how to use a gun, weapon, and ammo changes moving at an expert level speed. Barely jumping behind another bullet filled car, he heaved listening to the same man taunt him in another language. The kid was still trapped in the sniper nest, gunfire still raining down on both of them as things turned sour. With anxiety clutching his lungs, his hands fish around for the smoke bombs he picked up earlier. He chucks it at the two men, waiting until he heard both men gagging and cursing at each other. 

Tony reloads his gun, whipping upward just as another shot rang through the air. Zemo stumbles out of the smoke cloud dazed and coughing. The hunter trips on an object slumping to the floor, panicking once he saw his friend’s now dead blood-covered face. Taking his chance, he aims his gun at the last hunter firing before the man could get his bearings. 

He fires two shots right into the chest of the hunter, body stalking forward as the man struggled to breathe. He stops just before the clearing smoke, sending one final bullet into the asshole. 

The gunshot echoes, the wind blowing the wisps of the smoke away as silence lingers in once more. He lets out a shaky breath, heart pounding against his rib cage as he checks himself for any injuries. Adrenaline pumps through him, mind on edge as his head whips back to the now bullet-ridden sniper nest. 

“Alight-“ His voice cracks as his eyes try to find any movement up in the nest. “Come on down kid.”

It’s another long and dreadful seconds before Tony finally saw the kid peak out behind the tarp. Peter shoots him a thumbs up, disappearing once more as he only sighs with a large sense of relief.

_ He didn’t kill the kid just yet. _

_ Thank God. _

Trying to pull himself somewhat back together, he finds his gaze lingering back to the two men laying on the ground. The unknown hunter lays face-first into the concrete, blood pooling from a head wound. Zemo instead laid face up, eyes still open and staring blankly at the sky. A pistol lays in his limp hand, the weapon just moments away from firing. 

Tony kneels down inspecting the weapon just as he heard footsteps behind him. He turns, gaze shifting upward once they land on the kid walking towards him. The rifle is firmly held with both hands, Peter still slightly on edge from events prior. As the kid got closer, he couldn’t stop but stare at the small trickle of blood coming from his brow. 

The sight only made him curse under his breath, hands numbly grabbing the pistol Zemo left behind. Tony finally stands facing the kid, his worry unable to be hidden behind his so-called masked. His legs move him forward before he even thinks about it, gun-free hand reaching out to wipe the blood away.

The action only made the kid hiss in pain briefly, head jerking back slightly only to return right back into Tony’s hand. Zemo’s gun is placed in the waistband of his jeans, right hand now steadying itself on the back of the kid’s neck. They both don’t say a word as he studies the cut. Instead, the kid stands there content, eyes watching as he brushes a few stray curls away from the cut. 

Gently, his left thumb brushes away the blood, right hand offering a comforting squeeze. His anxiety still lingers around his lungs, slowly fading away at the kid’s alive presence. Tony takes another shaky breath, hands reluctantly removing themselves from the kid. 

Thoughts of hugging Peter appear, his brain, er more like Pepper’s voice telling him to do so. His weight shifts, body almost going for it when the kid finally speaks.

“Thank you,” His voice was small and childlike. “You didn’t have to-“

“No, it’s…” He trails off shifting his weight back on his heels. His eyes stare at the rifle in the kid’s hand, the weight of the pistol in his waistband growing heavy. “Just checking, I know that hunter fired a few shots.”

Peter only nodded, lips forming into a thin line. “The chair and the dead body up there took most of the hits. But my clumsy ass still managed to hit my head on some wood.”

He laughs for the first time since the hotel mess. “Sniper nests can be tricky.”

The kid loosens his grip on the rifle taking a look around at the hunter’s bodies lingering about. He takes a shallow breath, finally looking back up at Tony.

“How’d I do?”

Tony takes the rifle away from Peter, placing it against a stone halfway holding overgrown plant life. He sighs at the dead hunters, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. 

_ The kid killed some of these men, and would probably do it again. _

When he finally turns back to the kid, he’s playing with Zemo’s gun unsure how to answer. He doesn’t want to be a dick, especially like he was back at the hotel. Peter didn’t need his demons and burdens thrust upon him. The kid didn’t need his baggage and his constant worry when it came to kids. 

So instead he let the silence funnel back in, crickets the only sound that could be heard. Another breeze came by, the sun getting lower by the minute as Tony tried to find some form of a sentence to say. 

And against his better judgment, he grabs Peter’s hand. “How about something-“ He struggles to get the words out but deep down he knew this needed. “A little more your size.”

Zemo’s gun is placed into the kid’s hand, Peter’s eyes going wide by the gesture. He stares at him a bit bewildered, fingers firmly clutching the weapon. 

Tony is quick to grab his hand once more, looking the kid straight in the eye with a firm look. “For emergencies only.”

_ Don’t freak out. _

_ You’re giving your kid protection— _

_ Your kid— _

_ Your kid...oh God. _

“And nothing else,” He huffs out, mind already trying to push those last few thoughts far away.

“Okay,” Peter responds with a firm nod putting his gun away. “Emergencies only.”

“Good,” He hums, gesturing for them to get a move on from here and this conversation. The more he thought about the kid holding a gun made his stomach turn. “Let’s keep going, the sun is not going to stay up forever.”


	12. A Little Family Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Found some nails…” Peter trails off studying his features trying to figure out his anxiety-ridden thoughts. “Figure I’d make another nail bomb while you searched the RV.”
> 
> “Smart,” He nods staring at the gun once more, mouth already muttering words he wanted to push down. “Safety’s on the gun,” He blurts out. “You know how to switch it off.”
> 
> The kid perks up at that statement, eyes clearly understanding his thoughts now. “I do.”
> 
> “Okay,” He sighs words tumbling out quicker than he realized. “You just have to respect this type of thing, it’s not-"
> 
> Peter reaches out clutching his trembling hand before giving it a small squeeze. It takes a few moments not to pull his hand back, mind racing by the simple gesture he hasn’t had since forever. He wanted to take comfort in the fact of the kid trying to help out but all he could think about was Pepper doing the same exact thing. Whenever he was nervous, mind going into overdrive, her hand was there; a small squeeze trying to ground him. But now she wasn’t here, it was a kid who never even met her.
> 
> “I’ll be careful,” The kid said. “You can trust me.”
> 
> _I trusted you a long time ago._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got carried away with this chapter lol (around 9k words lmao) enjoy :D
> 
> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, death, guns, and alcohol/drugs

The tension that existed between them back at the hotel was finally gone. The pair was back to their old roots, simple conversations held between them without any real bite. A few jokes would be shared, as they both scanned the area for any more supplies. Hunters were littered about, bodies barely holding much ammo like their pals back at the highway blockade. They mostly wore hoodies and ripped jeans, a few such as Ward and Zemo sporting bulletproof vest. But in their case, they didn’t really protect them in the end. 

Keeping the kid in his sights, Tony broke off to a nearby RV searching for any contents or supplies they could snag. A grill sat by the side, a bird burning upon the coals as the hunter cooking was off among the dead bodies they left in their wake. He turned the grill off, almost gagging by the burnt smell lingering in the air. Wasting no more time, he ripped open the RV door walking up the two steps into the messy contents of the living area. 

Trash piles were a common thing among these hunters and sure the world ended up as trash pickup, but even he knew where to put trash before it went rotten. Shaking off the smell, he danced around the space, kicking pass the  _ way  _ to many porn magazines and other questionable objects he certainly wasn’t touching. In the end, he only managed to snag a bottle of pills and a box of bandages before the smell got too much for him. 

Returning back outside, he stumbles upon the kid fiddling with a tin can as he crafts another nail bomb. Tony freezes at the sight, a fond and oddly proud smile forming at his lips as he watched the kid work. Peter sat at the rotting picnic table, tongue slightly stuck out as he worked to craft another bomb. But was truly impressed him was the fact that he barely showed the kid Bruce’s designs, he was just figuring them out on his own like it was no big deal. 

_ He was proud.  _

_ A parental like proudness that made his heart swell.  _

And the smile would have stayed until he noticed the gun sitting right next to the kid as he worked. Metal glistening in the remaining sunlight just enough to make him uneasy. He pictures the kid firing it, taking another life as he did moments ago. He struggled to regain his thoughts to a normal state, eyes just barely catching the kid staring at him. 

“Found some nails…” Peter trails off studying his features trying to figure out his anxiety-ridden thoughts. “Figure I’d make another nail bomb while you searched the RV.”

“Smart,” He nods staring at the gun once more, mouth already muttering words he wanted to push down. “Safety’s on the gun,” He blurts out. “You know how to switch it off.”

The kid perks up at that statement, eyes clearly understanding his thoughts now. “I do.”

“Okay,” He sighs words tumbling out quicker than he realized. “You just have to respect this type of thing, it’s not-"

Peter reaches out clutching his trembling hand before giving it a small squeeze. It takes a few moments not to pull his hand back, mind racing by the simple gesture he hasn’t had since forever. He wanted to take comfort in the fact of the kid trying to help out but all he could think about was Pepper doing the same exact thing. Whenever he was nervous, mind going into overdrive, her hand was there; a small squeeze trying to ground him. But now she wasn’t here, it was a kid who never even met her. 

“I’ll be careful,” The kid said. “You can trust me.”

_ I trusted you a long time ago. _

Tony only nods pulling his hand away, he glances off at a metal gate leading away from the checkpoint area of the old quarantine zone. “Let’s get out of here.”

They press forward, navigating their way through another trashed building. Old air conditioners sat by the wayside, stray parts of other rusted metal objects littering the floor. Boxes scaled sky high, heavy objects inside as they blocked certain doors and exits. A work breach sat against a wall, a spare scope just sitting there waiting for him to take it for his rifle. 

It doesn’t take long for him to fix it onto the rifle, screwdriver in hand as his muscles worked from memory. He used to make weapons for a living in the earlier days of Stark Industries - _this was child's play_. A few moments later, he was down testing out the scope as the kid only marveled at his quick work. 

“How-”

“Years of practice,” He sighed some sour memories of his father lingering. _“Years of practice.”_

He hops over a large metal table, landing in the other part of the small storage area before the kid could respond. On this side, the area was less cluttered and dirt covered. The windows sat shattered on the floor, mold, or some other kind of dirt caking the walls as a must filled the air. Still, he would take this smell over the RV’s any damn day. Just as he turned to make a joke about the smell, a truck’s engine echoed from the street. 

_ “Run!”  _ A man yelled panicked. 

The truck’s sound grew closer, familiar rumble making his eyes go wide. _It was the tank from earlier._   
  


“ _ Shit! _ ” He hisses whipping his head back towards Peter as he ducks under the windows. “Get down, get down!”

_ “Keep running!” _

The kid ducks to cover just as two non-hunters run in front of them. A man and woman spirited as fast as they could, wearing nothing but the clothes on their backs. The tank grew closer, the woman making a small lead passed the man as gunfire rang out. The man hits the ground first with a spray of blood, body slumping to the ground hard. Another round shots follow the women taking two in back as she gasps out in pain. She lays there struggling to breathe, body twitching as blood pooled out of her. 

Peter finally peaks outside, eyes making contact with the woman as his face begged them to save her. The kid goes to stand as Tony tackles him back down to the ground, arms wrapping around the boy refusing to let go. The tank finally rolls up, tires screeching as two men get off of the vehicle. 

“The woman-” 

“We can’t save her,” He whispers back eyes watching miserably as the woman actually reaches out to them crying in pain. 

The two men have smirks on their faces, evil grins watching as the woman struggles to move let alone breathe. They laugh at her struggles, taunting her before one hunter finally silenced her with another bullet. The gunshot echoes through the air, Peter instead of moving only squeezing onto Tony’s arms harder. One of the men finally searches her body, roughly handling her hoping for something good. 

The other hunter stands guard, shotgun in hand. “Busy couple of days, huh?”

He wanted to scoff out loud at the comment, blood boiling at how the men saw this as a normal everyday activity. Those people posed no threat but the hunters only saw the supplies and goods that a person had. 

“Whatever man,” The other replies looking pissed at the lack of supplies on her. “Damn, no food. A stupid old pair of shoes, they got nothing.” 

“Of course they do.”

“Let’s go then, I’m getting tired of tourists.”

Both men climb back onto the running vehicle, settling in the back seating with heavy sighs. They both looked pissed, muttering to themselves about how tourists nowadays had jackshit. The tank rolls backward over the bodies as a final fuck you, screeching tires taking off in the direction they came in. 

They both wait another few seconds before they finally get up, Peter still holding onto his arm as his eyes stared at the bodies in front of him. He blinks a few times, slight panic appearing on his face. 

"G-God..."

“There was nothing we could do,” He offers, letting the kid squeeze his arm until it bruises.

“I know-” Peter breathes heavily, staring at the bodies one more time. “It's just...oh man.” 

“Let’s just,” He pulls the kid away front the window and towards another door. “Get to that bridge.” 

With a creak from the rusted door, they jaunt up a flight of stairs. The walls become metal and rusted like the door, other exits blocked by desks and other assortments. Sunlight leaks through the small windows, dim light illuminating another trashed hallway. Cardboard lays on the floor, dust, and water turning moldy. 

They barely make it through the door when new voices echo down the hall. They both freeze, footsteps coming closer as Tony yanks the kid to some form of cover.

“—they finally killed that couple. I was sure they made it out of the city.”

Pushing Peter behind him, they take cover behind a wall leading to bathrooms. Other wooden doors lead to other spaces, offices most likely. A musty smell lingers in the room, water dripping from the ceiling as the drywall sinks. He draws his pistol as a precaution, a protective arm out in front of the kid without any real thought. 

“All we need to find is this fucking pickup-truck duo.”

The men finally turn the corner with their guns at their sides. A beer sat in one hunter’s hand, lighter lighting up his buddy’s joint. Smoke blows into the air, both men clearly not on edge as they sounded. It was just a conversation between them, two hunters “following orders” and doing a half-ass job. Still, they both remained silent, using the wall as basic cover hoping the men don’t see them.

The closest Hydra goon takes a long sip of his beer. “They better have been a fucking army in that truck. They wiped out the entire 76 crew, Pierce is livid.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” The other man grumbled. “He’s already on my ass about my drunken watch last week. Boss is probably already moving me to the highway crew as we speak.”

“Just don’t screw this shift up for me, I just got to checkpoint four. The highway was a shitshow.”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” The Hunter takes another hint of his joint swaying a bit. “Just keep moving, I wanna be done by sundown.”

Oblivious to the pair huddling against the wall, the men walked into the stairwell they just came from. Their voices echoed, boots pounding down the stairs until they disappeared from his sight. 

“Come on,” Tony gestured to the kid slew they moving through the hall. “Won’t take them long to see the mess we left.”

They walked into a room filled with desks lined with an assortment of papers at least twenty years old at this point. A whiteboard was pinned up against the far wall, dried marker crusted onto it. A water tank sits murky, cracks from the bottle allowing dust and other things inside. 

“Hearing them talk,” Peter finally says drumming his fingers on the desk as they passed. “They’re scared of us.”

“That doesn’t mean to let your guard down.”

The teenager sighs. “I’m just saying it’s nice to have you on my side.”

Tony stops walking, heart oddly warming at the comment. He fights back a smile and a fond comment biting the inside of his cheek hard. He stares at the bulletin board filled with pictures and postcards. People and their families smiling and enjoying their lives. A couple holding their newborn baby sours his mood, rings around his neck growing heavy. The weight around his neck almost chokes him, the metal seemingly growing hot against his skin. Memories painful engraved in him forever. 

He sucks in a shaky breath shifting his weight to start walking again.

“That uh…” The kid grabs his attention once more, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. He turns to see the poor boy fighting back a blush, Bambi like eyes melting his aching heart. “That was a compliment.”

_ Thank you, kid, I needed that. _

“Okay.”

He cringes at his statement mentally facepalming. 

_ Complicated emotions: 1 _

_ Tony responding like a normal human being: 0 _

The conversation dies there, the pair walking back into the hall. The floor suddenly leans towards a decline, the remains of the hall leading back outside just as the floor caved in around the building. Inches away, a tracker trailer is pressed against the structure; a stepping stool to get them back down to street level.

Fences and walls surrounded them, pavement and metal decaying away. Plant life overtook some areas, cars randomly parked unusable. They jaunt forward, weaving by other trucks covered in vines blocking streets and other exits. Smaller shops lined the streets, a decaying bookstore acting as their only way out of this area. They walked forward, Tony leading the way before more voices stopped him in his tracks. He pushes the kid back crouching down as he listens to the conversation between more hunters. 

“—the east-side crew hasn’t seen shit.”

“Of course they haven’t, they’re alcoholics.”

He drew his bow, eyes watching as the two men talked to themselves on a balcony above. They muttered something, bodies walking into an apartment complex. Quietly they surge forward hiding behind another police car as more words this time came from a few feet away. The kid grabbed his makeshift ax, waiting for Tony’s que to move.

“—they finally caught the guy and the girl.”

“Good, now all those assholes need to do is find the old man and the kid.”

_ Old- _

He takes a breath trying not to be offended. He was “middle-aged” at best and he looks fucking good for the age he will not disclose. Especially now since skincare and normal things such as diets and sleep went out the window once the whole world ended. 

Once those two get distracted by whatever they were grilling, they move towards the apartment complex. More men huddle inside, one hunter breaking off to walk outside. The man seemed pissed, huffing in frustration.

“How long are we supposed to stand here with our dicks in our-“ He gasps suddenly unable to finish his sentence as Tony places him in a chokehold.

The hunter struggles, his own men not realizing he was even outside to begin with. Peter sneaks past the door, leaning against the other side to keep watch. He does a turn and a snap shortly after, the man falling dead neck at an awkward angle. He drags the body into the bushes gesturing for the kid to get inside.

Once inside they quickly jog up the stairs passing a barrel fire lighting up their way. The walls were painted red, dim lighting from the sun making the halls feel much smaller than it was. Making it up to the second floor, they pause eyes just making out the men chilling out in the rooms. About three to four men walk about, minding their own business unaware of their presence.

They sneak inside when there's an opening, bodies hiding behind a large desk. A computer sits on top, desk looking out on the room of other desks and makeshift beds. A large gaping hole opens back to the street, summer air blowing in.

As the man breaks away from his pals to walk back into the hall, Tony draws his bow firing an arrow. The man shutters out a rasp, arrow sticking out of his neck as he slumps to the floor. Quickly he retrieves the arrow, working his way with the kid into the other part of the rooms. 

A man with full tactical gear minus the helmet comes into view, body halfway into the room as he spots his pal dead on the floor. The hunter's head whips upward, body charging at Tony just as the kid rounds the corner. The man slams him into the wall, dazed figure smacking against the drywall before he's placed in a chokehold. He gasps, the hydra goon showing no mercy as he squeezes harder. Black dots fill his vision as panic surfaces once more, shaking hands clawing at his attacker.

Peter springs into action a moment later, ax arching downward into the hunter's arm. The man cries out in pain, grip loosening as he instinctively reaches out to put pressure on his bleeding wound. Using that as his distraction, the kid then takes the dull side of his weapon knocking the hunter out cold. With a clang of metal, the goon drops to the floor with a heavy thud. Tony only heaves out a breath, shooting the kid a thumbs up as he tries to push air back into his burning lungs. Black dots disappearing, he yanks the kid through another gaping hole in the wall. The move into the next room: empty except for the roaring flames of a barrel fire. 

Embers crackle as they cautiously walk into the dark hall and back down another flight of stairs. They make it back to street level again, less on edge now that the men on top were taken care of. Together they move towards the men on ground level still cooking away. They sneak passed them, using concrete half walls and other cars as covers as they made their way to the edge of this section of the old zone.

A large concrete wall lined with barbed wire blocks their exit, skeletons of military laying in piles as a fresh body of a non-hunter lays next to them. Tony's lips form into a thin line, eyes darting to the fire escaping leading over the wall. He nudges the kid forward, gesturing to the latter just out of his reach. 

Using his hands to boost the kid up, he prays that the men they snuck passed didn’t hear the creak of the ladder dropping to the ground. Peter still clings to the ladder as it dropped, climbing up as Tony followed carefully watching for any hunters. The higher they scaled the more the yellow bridge came back into view. A looming image of their freedom, an actual exit out of this shithole Pittsburgh turned into.

“Almost there,” He sighs, hopping down onto another truck bed and down into the next street. 

The area around them seemed untouched by the hunters, plant life mostly taking over the remaining structures. Vines and mosses cover the buildings, high mental fences still standing even rusted and bent. A large building covered in foliage catches the kid's attention immediately, some fancy building locked behind intricately designed gates.

The kid turns to him, pointing to the banner still hanging on the metal rods. “I used to stay in a place like this, back in the Boston QZ.”

“SHIELD’s Military Preparatory School,” He reads distaste showing for the military that nearly killed them  _ many  _ times.

“Yeah,” Peter scoffs, ripping the banner off. He crumbles it, throwing it to the ground. “Nice way of saying an orphanage that brainwashed kids into soldiers. The number of times I had headmaster Coulson up my ass about choices of work. They basically blackmailed you into joining their cause.”

“They needed numbers and orphan kids were an easy route.”

“A bunch of bullshit,” The kid mutters walking away from the building. “It's a no brainer why half the kids ended up joining the Avengers.”

Tony goes to say something, to offer some words of comfort or well something other than _‘okay’_ but the kid was already moving onto other topics. Peter's gaze darts off across the street, head cocking to the side at the large advertisement in front of him. It's the movie poster he's seem littered around the city, peeling scraps of the 'next hit movie.'

‘Whispers of Iron,' He almost scoffs at the name. A cheesy supernatural mystery love story that his wife seemed to love, another lingering reminder of what he loss.

“These posters are everywhere,” The kid notes, staring at the poster of some knight and ‘modern-day reincarnation’ princess. “I honestly have no idea what is happening here.”

The words escape him before he realizes, old conversations slipping out. “Some woman is a modern-day reincarnation of a sorceresses princess and that knight was put in a one thousand year slumber until the princess reawakens.”

"You know..." Peter faces him once more an amused smile forming. He wiggles his eyebrows, making Tony regret his last comment. “The knight looks like you.”

He scoffs. “He does not.”

Peter being Peter, only smirks more. “I’m pretty sure you have the same goatee as him.”

He gapes. “This right here,” He points at his facial hair defensively. “Is a Tony Stark original.”

“Whatever you say, Iron Man.”

Tony cocks a brow almost laughing. “Iron Man?”

The kid gestures to the poster then to him. "Uh hello? Your twin is standing right in front of you." He moves closer to the advertisement, still trying to get his point across. "Suit of iron armor. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I see no-"

“Nope, la la la -" Peter cuts him off, covering his ears like a child. He stops after a few seconds, a slight pout forming on his lips. "Embrace the nickname, you needed a colder one."

“Oh do I?”

“Yup,” The kid nods. “I’m Spider-Man because I can climb stuff and you're Iron Man because you love the cheesy love story with your face on it.”

“I don’t-” He sighs, hiding a smile before looking at the poster one more time. 

Fantasy romance wasn’t his forte, but for Pepper? God, she loved them some much.

_ She made him like them - even if he won’t admit it. _

The kid takes another look at the poster changing the subject. “Let me guess the knight is sent to protect her, she gets magic, fights against some evil, they fall in love.”

“Eh, more like the knight dies briefly only to be resurrected into an evil knight with no memories of his past life.”

“Jesus, that all happens in this movie?”

“No, this movie was based on book one. The knight dies and the evil witch lady brings him back in book two.”

Peter only chuckles. “Well was the movie any good?”

“The outbreak happened before I could see it.”

“Ah-ha!” He exclaims. “I knew you were into cheesy love stories.”

_ Anything for Pepper _ .

_ Anything. _

“Nah,” Tony sighs, pushing away the bittersweet memories of his wife nose deep in those books. “I just knew someone who loved them.”

“And who was that?”

“Uh-“

_ My everything. _

“No one important.”

He walks away from the poster without another word, listening to the kid’s footsteps behind him. He sucks in another shaky breath, mask fitting back into place. They press forward and far away from the memories resurfacing.

________

Taking a sharp right into an alleyway, they barely made any ground before the Humvee and armed Hydra Hunters came their way. The vehicle drove around the street, its men from the inside and outside getting out to search each building on foot. Once more, they found themselves moving within buildings desperately trying to avoid the hunters. 

At first, things seemed to work in their favor; a large building went between two alleyways, doors and windows left open for them to secretly pass undetected. For the most part, they managed to do so, silently taking out hunters before any of their Humvee or on foot goons saw.

However, that all changed when they stumbled into some office building. Re-election banners hung, a main hub for a campaign for mayor. They were fresh off booking it into the office and off the viable parts of the street as they both heaved trying to stay low. More men seem to join, growing voices echoing across the street as they find fallen hunters. Everyone including the weaponized Humvee was on alert, double-checking every nook and cranny.

All it took was one trigger happy hunter to see them hiding behind a desk before all hell broke loose. One hunter fired from their left and another fired from an entrance from the right. Moments later, the Humvee was firing within the building as they both hit the ground crawling for some better cover. 

Gun drawn, Tony fires a few shots at the hunters all missing except for a non-threatening graze. He curses before the kid moments later chucked a nail bomb behind him waiting until the contents explode before pushing him to another cubicle. As both hunters cried out in pain, bodies slumping to the floor, they both panicked as more shots from outside continued.

They darted from desk to desk to back exit as the vehicle outside drove back and forth firing. Crawling out a broken window, they hit the ground running to the back alleyway as gunfire rain down upon them. Peter looked winded as they rounded the corner, breathing heavily as two more hunters sprinted at them. 

Tony whips out his metal pipe taking out the closest one before he could check on the kid. The other hunter, bat in hand tries to whack Peter but instead was met with the scissor part of his ax. As they pierced his cheek, the man stumbled back dropping his bag before the kid arched around switching sides before the metal pipe of his ax knocked the man out cold. 

Heaving he hooks the bat on his backpack looking back at Tony with a paler expression. 

“Kid-“

The Humvee gets sight of them again and starts firing. Tony springs forward, latching onto the kid and pushing him into another building. He drags Peter through a couple of rooms and into a stairwell when he stopped. He checks his surroundings, hand firmly resting onto the kid with worried eyes.

“I’m...fine,” Peter wheezes out.

“Inhaler  _ now.” _

“There’s fucking…” The kid struggles to catch his breath for a few seconds. “Hunters.”

“Don’t care inhaler,” He hisses back, already taking the bag off the wheezing boy. “We got a lot more running to do.”

Peter doesn’t respond, only muttering under breath before giving in to his requests. He takes his inhaler, breathing in a few puffs before his breaths return to normal. Tony not realizing cups his cheek with his hand, running a comforting hand through his messy mop of curls. The kid rolls with it, head leaning into his hand as he steadied his breathing. They stayed like for a few moments, the pair not daring to comment on what was happening.

When his brain finally snaps back to reality, his hand retracts only to tightly grip the kid's backpack. Peter mutters something under his breath, eyes staring at the man with confusion. He slowly takes his bag back, unsure what happened moments ago as well.

_ He’s not your kid. _

_ Peter is not your- _

“Thank you,” Pete whispers.

“No problem,” He answers, already heading up the stairs before the kid could respond.

They stumbled into more offices, a floor dedicated to personal rooms for higher-ups. The stained blue walls lead them past a conference room, hall rounding to two more rooms. The first one was barren, a desk overturned and windows blocked. They head into the other one, window open and leading to a fire escape.

Heading back outside they carefully walk up the steps, metal echoing as the Humvee passed by their alleyway. They freeze, eyes watching the vehicle drive away as they scramble upward. After two more flights, a wide plank leads them over to window sills of a new building. 

“I think we lost them for now,” He huffs walking across. 

With their backs pressed against the brink, they go through another window. This time landing in an apartment, they cut through and once more back onto a broken fire escape. They do the same thing as before, backs pressed against the brink as they slowly edge their way over to another open window. 

The Humvee rolls up below them, the remaining hunters inside glancing around through their mounted gun. 

“Shit,” Peter whispers.

“We’re okay, we’re high up they can’t see us.” He muttered back slowly inching his way towards the other open window. 

The summer breeze blew the ivory-colored curtain outside, fabric dancing in the wind leading them towards it. Tony reaches the windowsill, now green walls showcasing another bedroom. From the outside, it looked the same; pillaged and recked through by the people who have been here before. He hops inside, feet settling on slightly water damaged carpet as water pooled upward for the pressure. His gaze turns back to the kid, eyes intently watching the boy unaware of anything else in the room. 

He turns back to Peter, mouth opening to make a comment when a sudden force tackles him from behind. He gasps, force making him stumble a bit as the man behind him pulled him away from the window, right arm pulling him into a chokehold. Tony rasps out, hands flying to man’s arms as he claws at the arm hoping to break free. 

_ Of course, a fucking Hunter had to be here.  _

Muscle memory kicks in, the heel of his boot kicking into the man’s shin with a force as Tony takes that momentum to slam the hunter into the wall. The man curses, arms trying to regain the stronger hold around his next as the two of them fought one another. A picture frame breaks beneath them, Peter finally hopping inside charging with a small fury. He only sees the glistening of the small knife before the man whacks the kid away. 

Peter falls back as the man cries out in pain, choke loosening as blood streams down his arm. His gaze falls off Tony, eyes widened and the kid on the ground. 

“What the-”

He doesn’t let him finish his sentence before body-checking him against the wall once more. Daze the man almost falls right onto him, body going forward as Tony's body slams him onto the floor.  Both men continue to fight among themselves, Tony with the upper hand this time as the hunter tries to block punches. 

“M-Mr. Stark!”

His eyes fly upward, brain already processing the panic in the kid’s voice. His eyes find Peter with his own eyes wide silently gesturing towards the other side of the room. His vision shifts, eyes finally landing on something that changed the whole situation. 

_ A kid.  _

A girl looking not much older than Peter aiming a gun at the two of them. Tony's hands slowly go up, eyes shifting from the man he just body checked and the girl with sharp dark brown eyes filled with every intent on pulling the trigger. 

“Leave him  _ alone,”  _ She bites back. 

Below Tony the man groans in pain, as he stands trying to diffuse the situation. “Easy, let’s just take it easy.” He slowly shifts over in front Peter, hands still upward showcasing that he’s unarmed. “No need to shoot.”

“It’s alright,” The man huffs, wincing as he sits upward. “They’re not the bad guys.” 

The girl only wavers a bit, eyes shifting onto the man. 

“Lower the gun.” 

She finally does but makes no move to put the weapon away. She stares at them some more, lips in a thin line. The man on the other hand slowly checks himself out, rubbing his sides as he winces once more. 

“Man, you hit hard.” 

“Yeah well,” He shrugs taking one more look at the kid trying to sneak another puff of his inhaler. “I was trying to kill you.”

Finally standing up, the non-hunter dude rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “Yeah, I thought you were one of them too.” His gaze shifts to Peter fumbling to put his inhaler away in a discreet manner. “Then I saw you. If you haven’t noticed, they don’t keep kids around especially if they need an inhaler.” 

“Not many people want a kid around with asthma either,” The kid mutters back with a sour expression. “Survival of the fittest.” 

Tony takes a long look at Peter, wanting to maybe give him a hug or a thoughtful pat on shoulder but his body stayed still. He didn’t move, only stared as he watched some sort of mask wash over the kid’s face like nothing happened. It unnerved him, made his mind reel at the thought of the kid hiding away from any sort of memories like he did. 

_ They were more alike than he thought. _

“Well whoever thought that,” The man began taking another look at his bleeding arm. “Clearly hasn’t seen your knife skills.”

“Is it deep?” The girl rushed forward fishing in her bag and pulling out bandages. 

“It's nothing,” He sighs taking the bandages from her hands. 

He starts wrapping his arm up nonchalantly eyes flicking back up to them awkwardly watching. He finishes with the bandages, stuffing them in the backpack of the girl’s before taking the gun out of her hands. He pockets it, hand finally stretching out in a friendly manner. 

Tony finally just had a good look at the man. He was tall and slim, his skin an umber, dark brown. And yet still he still had a bit of muscle on him showcased by his ripped black tee. His pants match, dirt-covered like his boots and a ratty backpack that seen better days. 

“I’m T’Challa and this is,” He gestures over to the girl with sharp dark brown eyes giving them a once over. “Is my sister, Shuri, don’t mind the glares. She’ll warm up to you in a bit.”

“Whatever,” She sighed, eyes narrowed. 

Shuri, like her brother, was tall and slim, her skin the same shade of dark brown only with more of a bronzy glow. Her hair was in an assortment of braids, all crafted together into one bun at the top of her head. A few stray pieces framed her face, and the small cut just under her eye. Unlike T’Challa, she wore a white or well, a now gray tee covered by a yellow bomber jacket. Her black jeans were littered in patches of fabric, rips, and holes patched up over time. Instead of boots, she wore high top vans caked in mud but still wearable. 

“I think I caught your last name was Stark?”

“Tony Stark,” He said.

“Guy who likes going by his last name I see,” T’Challa joked. 

“I’m Peter,” The kid finally chimed in. 

“So,” He takes a look around the bedroom almost expecting to have more people come running in from the commotion. “How many are with you?”

“They’re all dead,” Shuri huffs fixing the strap of her bag. 

“Hey,” Her brother shoots her a look. “We don’t know that. There were a bunch of us but someone had the brilliant idea of entering the city. You know to look for supplies.” He stopped fixing his bandage one more time. “And well those Hydra fuckers ambushed us, scattered us, and now it’s all about getting out of this shithole.”

“We can help each other,” Peter chimed in once more trying to be as helpful as always. 

“Peter,” He stops the kid from going forward still wary of the people in front of him. Just because they weren't Hydra hunters does not mean they shouldn’t be careful. 

Ignoring him the kid continued on. “Safety in numbers and all that, we’re highly outnumbered right now. Might as well team up with people  _ not  _ trying to kill us.”

_ Leave it to the kid to trust someone instantly.  _

“I mean he’s right,” T’Challa says smirking. “We could help each other and luckily for you, we got a hideout not too far from here. Probably much safer if we chat there.” 

Tony looks at the kid who was glaring at him to agree. Peter nudged him with his arm lightly already making the move to walk towards the pair. 

“Alright,” He sighed giving in. They seemed nice enough. “Take us there.”

“Follow me.”

Shuri goes to follow her brother out before turning back to the pair. “Just so you know, I won’t slow down for you two. Don’t be slow and you’ll make it out fine.” She sends them once last warning glare before leaving the bedroom.

“Huh, remind you of anyone,” The kid snickered. “She’s really got you beat with the intimidating glare.”

“Walk,” He laughs playfully shoving the kid forward. 

________

During the jaunt downward through the apartment, the kids walked between the two men began trading water-down life stories. They were mostly simple, along the lines of friendly banter people try to do when groups form trying to get out of a shitty situation.

“So where exactly are you from?” Peter asks.

“All the way from Hartford,” Shuri replies normal hard glare softening with emotion.

_ Hartford, one of the first zones to barely make it to ten years. _

“You two?”

“Boston QZ,” The kid answers. “One of the last remaining ones somehow.”

“Even though the zones were shit a standing one is much better than here and certainly Hartford.”

“I heard there was some bad stuff going down.”

“Military abandoned the zone soon after the riots started, instead of kids joining up with SHIELD they opted to support a new group forming,” She pauses as they check out another apartment in the hall, the group doubling checking for any supplies. “They called themselves the Dora Milaje, a badass group of women taking back order in the zone. Things were fine for a while, and then…”

“Then what,” The kid asked sensing Shuri tensing back up.

She stopped speaking, shaking her head before forcing herself to search through some cabinets. T’Challa patted her shoulder with an equal pained expression.

“Avengers came into the mix and suddenly the Military tried rolling back into the zone,” Her brother finally said. “Shit hit the fan and soon the zone started looking like this one. We left before the riots started up again.”

“Shit.”

She finally looks Peter in the eye. “Shit indeed.”

The conversation ends there. 

After a brief pause of crafting Molotovs and nail bombs, they finally continued traveling back down to the ground floor of the complex. 

T’Challa leads the way, arching his head around as they around the next flight of stairs. “We need to be careful, we’re right by one of their lookouts.”

_ God, he hated these assholes and their armored Humvee. _

“Just so I know, is just you and your son?”

Tony stops walking midstep, eyes nearly bugging out at his comment. The blood drains from his face, ‘Morgan’s’ ultrasound suddenly coming to the forefront of his mind. He sucks in a shaky breath, hand just gripping the railing before his body stumbled forward. 

_ Peter, his kid. _

_ He’s not. _

_ But maybe- _

_ Fuck. _

“We’re not related,” The kid says walking with the group unaware of Tony’s small freak out. “We’re more like um…”

_ An infected kid thought to be the cure with a mentally unstable man who can’t let the past go traveling to his best friend’s camp who probably hates his guts since they parted ways.  _

“I uh,” He shuttered out some words. “I promise someone I’d look out for him.”

“I can appreciate that.”

_ Maria certainly didn’t when he let her get fucking bit on his watch. _

“Yeah.”

He lets the conversation die out there, invisible mask plastered across his face trying not to give any indication of his inner turmoil. 

When they finally reach the ground floor, sunlight fills the hallways as an assortment of posters still hang on the walls. Dirty windows display the street once more, T’Challa leading them into a decaying ‘Loki’s Toys.” Tony watches the man glance out the windows on edge turning back to the group as they walk in.

“Wait, wait,” He hisses just as the familiar Humvee sound echoes in. “Get away - get down. Away from the windows.” 

Collectively, they all crouch in some area hiding from windows. He and Peter hid behind a display counter, wooden horses still sitting there worn from the sun. The Humvee rolls on by with its mounted gun, hunters looking for any unwanted tourist. Once the truck leaves their sights, the group sighs with relief.

“They’re gone,” T’Challa mutters standing up still glancing out the semi boarded up window. “That fucking truck. It’s been hounding us ever since-“ He finally glances at his sister, her small hands fiddling with a small Lego Star Wars X-Wing. “Shuri what are you doing?”

She shrugs innocently. “Nothing.”

“Get rid of it.”

She scoffs, eyes narrowing. “My backpack is practically empty, I’m sure a small Lego-“

Her brother sighs walking over to his sister a stern look appearing on his face. “What’s the rule about taking stuff?”

“It’s a tiny X-wing with R2-D2.”

“ _ Shuri,  _ the rule, what is it?”

She sighs glaring at her brother. “We only take what we need to,” She mocks roughly placing the toy down.

“That’s right, now come on.”

They press forward. 

Luckily they didn’t linger in that toy room for long, one section was littered with rattles and toddler toys that made his heart clenched. He could have been in a shop like this, with his wife stupidly excited about being parents.

_ God, he misses Pepper. _

Walking outside they were met with another small group of hunters on foot. The group was quick to hide themselves, pulling out weapons that wouldn’t make as much of a sound like guns. Although there were only three of the asshats lingering around the outskirts didn’t mean that gunfire from them wouldn’t alert other hunters to their position. 

Plans be damned, T’Challa and Shuri charged together as a unit. Shuri pulled out a metal bat with red duct tape around the handle waving it around like it was a lightsaber. Her brother simply stuck to brass knuckles, clocking the poor guy as his sister batted him over. Once the first one hit the concrete, Tony was already strangling the closest hunter at gunpoint as his friend watched helplessly. 

The poorly armed hunter stood their timidly gun rise trying to show some sort of confidence. However, that failed once he notices the brother and sister pair glaring at him as Peter, ax in hand gets a good shot at his arm. The hunter cries out after that, his friend still in Tony’s chokehold trying to reason with him. Shuri knocks the bleeding hunter out soon after his gun drops to pavement, leaving an, oh so terrified asshole trembling in his arms. 

“L-Look man-”

Tony doesn’t let him finish, arms jerking his neck in a way that it never should. He hears a crack, a raspy breath leaving the hunter’s body before he falls limp and lifeless. The asshole is through to the ground, joining is other pals on the dirty pavement meant for savage hunters. 

T’Challa lets out a small whistle with an amusing look. “Not bad, old-timer.”

“Just you wait,” He muttered. “Just wait until you start growing gray.”

T’Challa only laughs.

________

Over a truck and jaunting over another rooftop with planks connecting buildings, they finally made it inside another building. It's offices once more, water damaged like the rest, and in need of a major remodel. Which was ironic truly, since this office space was meant for a company called ‘Carter Architecture.’ 

Funny what twenty years and the whole ending can do to a business. 

Stopping at a door labeled Suite 3000, T’Challa fished out a key from his pocket opening the door seconds later. “Through here.”

Tony took a quick glance outside, uneasy one just how close they were to the latest hunter patrol. “And you're sure it's safe?” He spares a glance at Peter. “You know being so close to them.”

“Well in a city like this,” He sighs heading into the office. “You're always close to them. Besides, I’m the only one who has the key.”

“And where’d you get that?”

“Killed one of them,” Shuri chimes in. “Trust me Stark, he won’t miss it now.”

Once inside the locked room, T’Challa was quick to lock it back up as the kids traveled forward a bit. His sister led the kid to back, showcasing the number of decaying rooms as they passed them. In front of Tony, the offices mostly stayed intact, a little safe space away from Humvees and Hunters. Sure, some of the drywall exposed the air ducts and debris litter the carpets but it was still way better than some of the shitholes he stayed in. 

Walking through the cluster of desks, Shuri turns to Peter with a curious gaze. “So, how old are you?”

“Fifteen, just turned like two weeks ago. You?”

“Ah a youngen,” She laughs. “I’m Sixteen.”

“You're like a year older,” The kid scoffs nudging her. 

“Still older,” She sang with small laughter. 

The two men joined back up with kids passed the conference room, one turn later they were met with more desks and a dusty tile floor. Stacked paper sat on desks, the semantics of buildings, and rooms littered on desks. The sun's remaining light shines through the tinted windows, giving the room a rather peaceful and warm feel. 

Peter lingered by the small kitchen, excitedly waiting for something like a puppy as Shuri opened the vending machine. The kid only muttered words under his breath as she appeared with a red can placing it in the overly excited kid's hands. He cheered quietly holding the can in question up for the whole world to see. 

“Mr. Stark!” The kid nearly yells as he rushes over to him. “ _ Look  _ what the vending machine had.”

Tony chuckles a bit taking a look at the familiar red can the kid was sulking about way back in downtown Boston. An innocent yet excited look flashed over his features, the weight of this world slowly lifting off his shoulders at least for this moment. 

“I guess you finally get to have your Coke, Kiddo.”

The nickname slips out before he catches it, a bittersweet moment causing his mask to crumble a bit more. Peter only smiles full-heartedly, cracking open the can and taking a long sip of the flat drink he so wanted to try. Tony only studies the kid’s face watching as his expression turns a bit sour as the flat drink doesn’t live up to the hype it thought it was. The kid smacks his lips together, taking another sip like he was unsure of whether or not he liked the taste. 

For a few seconds, Tony could picture Maria standing beside them. His friend sitting on a desk laughing her ass off as this naive kid tries to force himself to like a twenty-year-old soda that lost it fizz many,  _ many  _ years ago. They were a small family unit for a brief time, the three of them traveling along with no idea what the future held. 

Her image fades just as Peter places the drink down on the same desk. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, shrugging as he fishes in his bag for a notebook and pen. He flips through pages, many filled with funny drawings and other notes that looked like formulas. 

“So we got a diary now huh?” 

The kid rolls his eyes dramatically. “Uh no. I’m just keeping track of the sodas I try.” He turns the notebook around showcases the many drinks he tried over the years and ratings they all had. “It’s for science after all.”

He chuckles. “For science now huh?”

“Mhmm,” Peter hums scribbling down some notes. “To see how exactly these drinks can hold up over the years.”

“Who’s winning?”

“Right now Coke is leading by an 8.7 but Sprite is sitting pretty good at 8.5.”

Tony shakes his head, noticing their little group moved towards another door. He directs the kid over to them watching Peter write in the final score for his final drink. 

“What won you over then hm?”

“Coke had more red Sprite,” He responded with utmost seriousness, brown eyes going stern. “And red is by far the best color.”

Tony snorted, hand covering his mouth as laughter ripped out. 

“If Pete’s done showing you his diary,” Shuri beckoned to them. “I say we move into the actual safe room.”

“It’s not a diary!” He called out. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

_ “Shuri--” _

_ “Oi--! _

The kid followed along with a huff, amusing the rest of the group with a small pout. T’Challa’s hand pressed against the wooden door, moving it to reveal a much bigger office than the previous ones they passed through.

“Welcome to my office,” He joked shutting the creaking door behind them.

The room, in general, was rather put together than other decaying places they have been through. All the windows remained intact, blinds covering most of the light except a few broken ones stuck halfway. And the normal trash they expected from hunters was nowhere to be found. Sleeping bags laid in the far corner, one resting on top of a sofa and the other on the floor. In the center, a large mahogany desk sat shining in the dimming sunlight as papers shatter across it. 

“Sooo,” Peter drags out the last syllable while looking around the different paintings hanging on the walls. “How long have you guys been holed up here?”

“A few days,” Shuri responds with a small smirk growing. “We did find a bit of food through.”

She gestures to a small crate next to the sofa, dragging the kid over as he let out a small excited gasp. Tony watches him for a few more seconds, a fond smile watching the boy pull out what looked like some packet of fruit. The kids sat on the couch, splitting open the bag with hungry gazes.

He laughed glancing out the window wary of any more hunters. T’Challa’s laughter echoed behind him, the man’s footsteps disappearing to the back of the room. He returns shortly after holding a silver bag with small blueberries waiting inside.

“Blueberries? Found a whole stash of them.”

Shrugging in response, Tony grabs a handful popping them in his mouth before returning to look out the dirty glass. He sighs, stomach happy with him for consuming actual food after a shitty day. Hunters barely left anytime for them to breathe, let alone eat. And he certainly was not going to let his brain make him feel guilty about “starving the kid.” He was keeping Peter alive and  _ safe _ , just like Maria wanted him to.

_ Just like he wanted to. _

“I hate to dampen the mood here but why exactly haven't the two of you left?” He asks crossing his arms. “We got here today and we're already near the bridge, I don’t see why you need to stay in this hellhole any longer.”

“Been waiting for the right opportunity.”

“And?” He presses.

“Here,” T’Challa gestures over to the far window. “Check this out.”

The window in question didn’t have a blind, it’s dirty glass revealing yet another checkpoint littered with hunters. The access point of the bridge was cut off by assholes, all on guard expecting people to try and escape. 

“Look at all these sons of bitches,” T’Challa huffs out. “Every day, congregating down there laughing over their latest kills.”

_ Of course, they had to heavily guard the bridge, it could never be easy. _

“However, come night time, it’s down to a skeleton crew guarding the area,” He glances up back to Tony pointing at the sun setting behind the clouds. “After sunset, that’s our window. We’ll sneak right past them.”

“That could work.”

“Oh, it will,” T’Challa laughs at him before his gaze lands on something behind them. “Wow….”

Tony turns to see what exactly is happening on the other side of the room, half expecting the kid to be showcasing his knowledge of Stars Wars or his comics. Instead of that, he still finds something rather wholesome and innocent: a rarity nowadays.

Peter and Shuri still sit on the sofa, a bag of blueberries sitting between them as they burst out into child-like giggles. The kid throws a blueberry in the air, failing to catch the fruit in his mouth as it hits his eye. The berry falls to the side, both teenagers cracking up at the small action.

“Ow—“

“Aww did the little berry hurt little Parker’s eye—“

More laughter follows, enough to briefly make a small grin firm on his own lips. He fondly watches the kid laugh, finding comfort in a sound he wishes he could hear more of. Peter laughs some more, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. Overall, the scene was just so innocent, so childlike that anyone would have instantly wanted to protect this kid from any harm. 

“It’s been a while since she even cracked a smile that big,” T’Challa said drawing Tony out of his daze. The man didn’t notice, instead, he focused on his own sister with a small smile. “He really doesn’t seem bothered by any of this.”

Tony smiles fades as he nodded, his eyes watching the kid once more mind clicking back into overdrive. He was quite aware of the kid’s level-headedness, the way Peter processed situations. Sure the kid showed emotion way more than he ever would but that didn’t stop his mind from picking up on the small comments here and there.

Peter’s life before the bite and Avengers crusade were all but a mystery to him. All he knew about his past was that a runner bit him at the mall and his parents were long gone. Tony wanted to know more, to know why the kid would start talking about the past or a friend before grimly stopping the conversation. But his damn rules he set back miles and days ago still were upheld. The kid wouldn’t just explain his past without hearing some of Tony’s and that meant talking about Pepper, talking about his unborn child taken away too soon.

_ Pepper. _

_ Morgan _ .

He breaks eye contact with the scene of two kids laughing away. He turns to T’Challa changing the subject away from his mind melting down for a few seconds.

“So where were you heading?” He walks over to a chair in front of the desk running his hands along the fabric as Shuri cheered as she caught a blueberry.

T, himself sits at the larger chair behind the desk slightly rolling back elbows resting on his knees. “Heard the Avengers are based out west somewhere. We’re gonna join up with them.”

“Yeah,” He responds only laughing at the irony.

“Something funny?”

_ We’re looking for Avengers too because Peter is probably the fucking cure. _

“Just seems like there’s a lot of people putting their faith in the Avengers these days.”

_ Especially Maria. _

“Yeah, maybe there’s a reason for that.”

Tony leans forward in his seat. “So you don’t know where they are and you're just going to drag her across the country to find them?”

_ Oh, the irony in that statement. _

_ Like he isn’t doing the exact thing with taking the kid to Rhodey’s. _

“I’ll tell you what,” T’Challa pats the desk with a stern look. “You worry about your boy and I’ll worry about my sister. We knew a few Avengers back in Hartford there’s a reason for our travels.”

“Easy,” He shakes his head. “We’re looking for the Avengers too.”

T pulls back laughing to himself as he shakes his head. He stares at Tony for a few more seconds, pulling out a small piece of paper folded in half. He opens it up, revealing a map with a green circle around one area.

He taps the paper where a smaller dot is. “This is us,” He moves up to the bigger circle that looked miles away. “There’s an abandoned military radio station, just outside of the city. Any survivors from our group are supposed to meet us there, tomorrow.”

He glances back to the kids then to Tony with a serious expression. He takes the map off the table, pocketing it once more.

“If you and your boy want to join us, it goes down tonight.”

Tony leans back in his chair, stretching his aching muscles. He stares at T’Challa then to Peter with a sigh. If they had any shot of getting out of this hellhole, they needed to act now. So against his normal precaution in forming groups and following other plans than his, he just sat back and nodded his head.

“I guess we better rest up then.”

T’Challa smiled smugly leaning back in his own chair happy with the outcome before getting up to fetch more food for himself. Tony watched from his chair, eyes catching Peter’s as the kid sent him a bright smile.

And for the first time in a while, he genuinely smiled back.


	13. Raging Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kid,” Tony yells desperately. “Run!”
> 
> _Leave me._
> 
> _Please._
> 
> “No!” 
> 
> And this fucking kid in his stubborn glory didn’t run. Instead, as gunfire rained, he jumped back onto the ground crashing into Tony before falling flat on his face. The kid latched on, hugging the stunned man as his brain went into overload. Hunters were gaining and yet the kid was fucking hugging him.
> 
> _And he liked it._
> 
> “We stick together,” Peter said sternly. “No exceptions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, death, guns, and alcohol

Tony doesn’t remember when he exactly fell asleep, all he knew was one moment the sun was still above the horizon and then he’s jolted awake by a sleepy kid with the sun nowhere to be seen. His head lulls to the side of the roller chair, wheels shifting as his tired eyes blinked open. His eyes finally come into focus, landing on the kid as he rubs the sleep out of his own eyes. 

Peter yawns, brushing his mess curls from his eyes. “He says it’s time to go.”

With a heavy sigh and his body protesting the movement, he nods his head before getting up. On his feet, he stretches out his back joints cracking from the not so comfortable position he chose to sleep in. 

_God, he misses his bed._

Memory foam specially made to make anyone sleep like they were resting on clouds. Even if he barely slept before, that God sent was enough to make him have some form of a sleep schedule. Now, the mattress was either in pieces or sitting in his old house collecting dust just like the other things he left behind. 

With one final sigh, he runs his hand along his growing facial hair. His normal goatee, growing out into a messy beginning of a beard. Once he had a chance, he was going to shave the damn hair off. Sure it was stupid, but it was one thing that still gave him comfort in this world. Something as groomed facial hair reminded him of the good old days before this shitshow happened. 

Reaching for his bag in the dim room, he catches T’Challa talking to his sister with a serious expression. His voice was low, muttering something before he finally spoke at an octave he could hear. 

“We’re going to be moving fast so no matter what, you stick to me like glue.”

“Like glue,” She nods.

“ _ Like glue,”  _ Her brother emphasizes before acknowledging their presence behind him. He turns to them, serious expression mixing with a few nerves as he adjusts his bag. “Alright, you ready?”

“Yeah,” He answers. 

“Okay, let's go.”

Tony turns to the kid as T’Challa leads them out, mouth forming words as Peter stops him. 

“Stay close, I know.”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, and stick with you. I know the drill old man.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Still doesn’t mean I should remind you.”

Peter pats his shoulder, a smirk on his lips. “I think that’s an excuse for your old man brain to remember things.”

His mouth gapes open, lips pressing together as he lightly shoves the kid. Peter only snorts in response, nose scrunching up cutely. Laughter dying on their lips, they follow the siblings back out into the office area flashlights ready on their packs. T’Challa stops at a new door in the main area of the suite, keys in hand as he unlocks another side exit. 

They press forward down some metal stairs, any forms of jokes or laughter left-back at the suite. Everyone walks with a sense of alertness, steps careful and voices wary of any threats that lurk about. The more they descend, the more the hunters' touch comes into view. Trash laying about, bullet holes, and decaying buildings displaying their plaguing mark on the city. 

Finally, they reach another locked door in the darkness.

T’Challa gestures for them to be quiet, quietly unlocking the door as he peaks out looking for any threats. The group stands there in silence, fingers twitching to grab weapons at a moment's notice. Once given the all-clear, they follow T into the ground floor of the office building. They stayed at a crouch level, slowly moving to new cover as a few hunters came into view. 

“Take them out quietly, it’s just a few men.”

Tony nodded, giving Peter a knowing look of _‘stay close.’_ “We’ll follow your lead.”

T’Challa followed by Shuri surged past a barrel fire, bodies hiding behind a few crates as two hunters huddled around a fire. With their backs to them, Tony passed Shuri as two men grumbled about their jobs. 

Tony slowly crept up to the man on the far right as T’Challa was already in a position to tackle the other man from behind. A brief gunshot echoed from outside, distracting the men as they both tackled them into chokeholds. 

Gunshots covered the hunters' struggles for air as they slumped to the floor limp. Fire embers floated through the air, gunshots still echoing as they left the bodies to join back up with the kids. 

“Ok,” T’Challa huffs. “Let’s move.”

Together the group presses forward to the outside. A summer chill lingered in the air, hunters' voices echoing. More barriers littered the streets, overgrown grass mixing in with the rusted metal of cars and crates. Above them stands a sniper nest, wooden planks, and tarps only shown in the bright searchlight. The light scans the grounds, a few hunters stumbling around with muffled voices. 

Tony curses under his breath, rolling his eyes at their use of another military item. Of course, they had the bright ass lights the zones were supplied with since the beginning. Sure it wasn’t the end of the world but it was a pain in the ass to slip by undetected in cramped areas.

Moving forward the group stealthily made their way towards the guarded gate. The searchlight and hunters drift off to the far left, conversations of possible clickers fading away. Crouching behind a metal half wall, the group watches most of the hunters disperse, gazes landing onto the loner hunter by the gate and the one a few feet above. 

T’Challa’s voice whispers to the group, gesturing to the roaring generator. “All we gotta do is release the switch and that gate will open.”

Tony deadpans head gesturing to the other hunters by the searchlight. “Yeah and then we’ll have Hydra shitheads on our asses.”

“No shit, old man,” Shuri chimes in, hand screwing a silencer onto the end of a pistol. 

She peaks over smirking before firing off a round. The hunter up above rasps, body arching forward before falling over the bars. His body hits the pavement as his other hunter pal’s head whips over. T’Challa sprints towards tackling the man before he could alert his other friends. A quick shiv to the neck and the hunter falls limp, body spilling blood onto the roadway. 

Beside him, Peter blinks a few times, eyes shifting from Shuri, the dead hunters, and her brother with a sense of awe. Tony himself finds his eyes going wide trying to process exactly what happened. T’Challa makes his way over to the roaring generator controlling the gate. He flicks the switch red light turning green.

Shuri snaps in front of their faces, a smirk still on her face. “Alight slow pokes pull your weight we still got assholes to kill.”

“Badass,” Peter whispered as he chuckled quietly.

With that she stood up, joining her brother as the siblings together stealthy moved towards the three hunters walking back from their search. A few moments later, Tony and the kid move back the way they came. The group of four now split into pairs closing in on the unaware hunters. 

Tony moved closer, T’Challa and him following the same plan as before. In the darkness they hid, inching closer as Shuri once again lined up her shot. 

“I could have sworn I heard a clicker,” A girl huffed.

“Probably just Fisk drinking-“

She fires a shot into the man’s head, body slumping to the ground as the other remaining two panicked. The hunters were clearly inexperienced, struggling to pull their guns out. Taking their chance, the two men surged forward, placing the surprised hunters into a chokehold until they stopped breathing. Their bodies slumped to the ground, kids joining back up with them once more.

“Shuri,” Peter starts again. “That was fucking amazing.”

In turn, she only giggled taking a small bow as her brother looked at her fondly. 

“I have to admit,” Tony agrees with the kid. “You're a pretty good shot.”

“She’s learned from the best,” Her brother smirked.

“Dora Milaje were great teachers.”

“ _ Hey.” _

“Stop sulking you big baby,” She laughed giving him a playful punch. “Come on, let's get out of here. I’m tired of this hellhole.”

Once back at the gate, both men pushed against the heavy metal door cringing as the metal screeched. Struggling to pry the doors, they pushed forward, a tiny gap appearing. Just as they were getting some leeway, a familiar hum of an armored vehicle echoed through the air. A new source of lights shined down the street, vehicle getting closer.

“Shit it’s the Humvee!” Peter hissed running forward with Shuri as the group pushed open the doors. 

_ “Go, go—“ _

_ “Get inside—“ _

Together the men shoved the kids inside, shoving their full body weight back into the gate as the Humvee’s lights turned their way.

“ _ Tourist over here!” _

_ Shit. _

T’Challa locked the gate behind them, the group taking in yet another blocked off area before the bridge. They surged forward, a large storage container taking up most of the small area of garages. Barrel fires lit their pathway, old Avenger propaganda littering the walls and metal doors. 

“Keep your eyes open,” Tony huffed, turning to the kid. “We’re not out of this mess yet.”

Peter nodded switchblade already in his hands as they reached the storage container. A partial ladder appears at the side, Tony already crouching down to give T’Challa a leg up.

“The Humvee wasn’t suppose-“

“Right now we need to move,” He pressed urging the man to focus.

Once on top of the container, he gestured to his sister as the Humvee’s lights shined overhead. The engine stopped, the door creaking as they tried to open the gates. 

“ _ Shuri, _ ” He pressed panic now washing over his features. 

Tony helped her up next, taking her brother’s hand as Peter practically scaled the side himself latching onto the ladder. The kid huffs as he pulls himself upward, gates craving as more hunters yell from the outside.

Suddenly the ladder fell from under the kid, metal bars falling to the ground as Tony stared up at the group. More hunters screamed at each other, T’Challa anxiously watching as the gate caved in from the Humvee ramming into it.

“Okay, fuck,” Peter cursed with wild and guilty eyes. “We gotta get him up.”

“Ah…”

The gate caved more, a small opening appearing. Tony watched the man clutch his sister protectively, weight falling in the back of his heels.

“T’Challa-“

“I’m sorry,” He muttered. “We’re leaving.”

Shuri whips her head around. “ _ What?!” _

Peter fumed. “Don’t you fucking-“

T’Challa latched onto his sister and dragged her off. The siblings, one more reluctantly than the other disappearing off the container as Peter stands there stunned. Gunfire appeared overhead, gate almost breaking down. The kid ducks, body still not moving.

“Kid,” Tony yells desperately. “Run!”

_ Leave me. _

_ Please. _

“No!” 

And this fucking kid in his stubborn glory didn’t run. Instead, as gunfire rained, he jumped back onto the ground crashing into Tony before falling flat on his face. The kid latched on, hugging the stunned man as his brain went into overload. Hunters were gaining and yet the kid was fucking hugging him.

_ And he liked it. _

“We stick together,” Peter said sternly. “No exceptions.”

Suddenly the gate busts open, startling both of them as they scramble for some cover. Stray crates blocked the Humvee’s movement, bullets hitting the metal as Tony crawled towards one of the garages hoping for a way out. Reaching the metal door covered in the Widow’s symbol, he grabs the small handle lifting the door up enough for the kid to crawl under. 

Footsteps and gunfire got closer, Peter struggling to hold open the door as Tony quickly crawled under the small gap. With a clang, the door fell echoing in the dark as gunfire pounded against the metal. Hunter voices cursed from the outside, both of them heaving out breaths trying to calm their racing hearts. 

The kid flicks on his flashlight, lighting up the dark and trashed storage room with a curse. The Humvee still roared outside, bodies beating against the door as Peter made sure the damn door could never open again.

“Go around to the other side!”

“Fuck,” The kid cursed again. “How do we get out of here?”

“Jesus,” He huffed, staring at the archway leading into what looked like a bar. He turned to Peter, who was still by the door and took him by the shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine.”

_ He had to tell himself that the kid needed him to get him out of this mess. _

“Y-Yeah.”

“Stay close,” He muttered for the hundredth time today. “They’re not going to stop until they kill us.”

“Really? I didn’t realize.”

“Pete.”

“Sorry, sorry,” The kid said, hand gripping onto the sleeve of his flannel. “Trust me, I don’t wanna be apart from you right now.”

_ Oh, kid. _

_ Me either. _

_ “ _ Get this fucking door open!”

Tony snapped out of his daze, a firm grip around the kid’s arms as they left the trashed storage area. Stealthily, he dragged Peter behind the bar, beer taps lining the counters as numerous empty bottles littered about. His heart pounds in his chest, thumping against his rib cage as the blood fills his ears. A few more hunters stumble in from the main entrance of the bar, guns drawn and ready to fire. 

What happened next, was honestly muscle memory at this point. 

Stealthily, he popped up, metal pipe in hand as he swung it at the closest hunter. The man hits the ground, Peter springing forward sweeping the feet out from the other hunter. Both men groaned as they bolted to the next room, bodies weaving through countertops and decaying walls at the end of some shopping complex. 

Four hunters were hot on their tails, a few gunshots following as Tony yanks the kid to some sort of cover before he got his head blown off. They duck under an enclosed circle desk, dusty windows showcasing a glimmer of hope.

_ The bridge, just feet away.  _

A gunshot shatters the glass, Peter cursing as they both jump from the loud noise. The sound of the Humvee’s engine lurks in the distance, more men yelling at each other. Tony turns to grab his rifle off his back, limited ammo another thought on his list of things to worry about. The kid, however, grabs his arm roughly yanking him closer as bullets break through the wood  _ inches _ from his face. 

“Are you trying to get shot,” The kid huffs, lips in a thin line as his hand tightly grips on a nail bomb. “Because the last thing I need is you bleeding out in the middle of this cluster-”

Another bullet shatters a window, glass falling to the floor with a cloud of dust. 

“Screw this shit,” Peter huffs once more, peaking over the desk with just enough to toss the nail bomb their way. 

The can hits the ground seconds later, metal clanging against the tile.

“What the hell--”

The bomb explodes, four voices crying out in pain as the cluster of nails, scissors, and other objects rain down upon them. 

_ “SHIT--” _

_ “MY EYES--” _

Tony, taking the pained voices as his distraction pops up from his hiding place. Rifle in hand, he scans the area, eyes catching two dead men in a pool of blood as the other two try to find their bearings. He fires off a few rounds, the remaining hunters hitting the ground; room falling silent for the first time in a while. 

“Shit,” He heaves heart pounding as he listens to the echoing engine of the Humvee. He glances at the mess in the room, the bodies and blood all over the floor. “I don’t know about you but I saw we get the hell out of dodge.”

“No shit,” The kid deadpanned standing up from the ground with a heavy sigh. “I’m getting tired of running from these guys.”

“Me too, Kiddo,” Tony pats his shoulder as they make their way through one of the shattered windows. “Me too.”

Back outside, the cool breeze hits them once more. The bridge stood feet away, the sight lit up in the vast darkness. Together they both let out another sigh, bodies still alert but going at a much slower pace than they were. Peter turns to make some comment, words falling flat on his lips as the Humvee crashes onto the lock gate beside them.

“Sh-”

“Go,  _ go!”  _ He hisses pushing the kid forward as they make another spirit for the bridge. 

Behind them the Humvee finally crashes through, engine roaring with life as it sped after them. The mounted gun rained down upon them, bullets flying at high speed as they jumped around hurdles on the roadway leading to the bridge.

_ “They’re heading to the bridge!” _

Tony stumbles passed the construction equipment; highway signs and cones falling to the wayside as the bullets pelted them. The Humvee’s light tracks them around a sharp corner, spotlight on a crashed bus just barely letting them through as they spirited up ahead. They managed to spirit a bit of distance away, Humvee’s wheels coming to a halt with a loud screech. 

Hopping down onto the bridge, Peter takes off a few inches in front before coming to a sudden stop. Confused, he almost yelled out for the kid to keep going until his eyes landed on the gaping hole in the bridge.

_ More like half of the fucking bridge was gone into the river below.  _

“Oh fuck,” The kid mutters.

_ Oh, fuck indeed.  _

Tony stared at the raging water below, panic hitting his lungs as the searchlights began to appear again. Voices echoed, metal crashing into metal ringing out as his panic began to rise. 

“Uh…” He huffs out hand reaching for his pistol trying to come up with some plan of attack. “How many bullets do you have left?”

_ Shit, shit, shit. _

Peter stares at him dumbfounded, his own panicked gaze gesturing up ahead. “They’re gonna kill us!”

“What other choice do we have?!”

_ “We jump.” _

Tony’s brain nearly shut down right there at the mere thought of the kid jumping from anywhere from this high  _ especially into a raging river.  _

“No, no,” His parental instincts kick in, panic still gripping his lungs. “It’s too high and you can’t swim.” He glances back at the clusters of cars trying to plan some sort of escape route. “I’ll uh-”

Lights flood the bridge, tires screeching as the Humvee slams against the tipped-over truck blocking its way. The car in front falls into the river, the vehicle slamming backward to ram against the truck. 

“You’ll keep me afloat,” Peter says with such blind faith. 

“Peter-”

The Humvee moves the truck a little bit more. 

“No time to argue,” He huffs out sprinting forward just as Tony turns to face him.

“Pete-”

The kid jumps off.

_ The kid fucking jumped off. _

All color left his face, legs already taking him off the damn bridge before his brain could even process what that damn kid just did. Moments later, his body hits the cold water bubbles forming as he kicks up to the surface. The moment he breaks, the river carries him away; raging waters spraying him in the face as he struggles to keep his breath. He thrashes around, hands desperately trying to find the kid before the river takes him away.

_ “Tony!” _

His body jerks around, blurry eyes landing on Peter struggling to stay afloat. The kid thrashes, arms falling out as he tries to fight against the waves. 

“I-” He gags, latching onto the kid for dear life. “I got you, I got you,” He mutters keeps the kid afloat as the waves push them forward. 

Peter latches onto his arm, body shaking as he coughs out the water he just inhaled. Tony struggles to pull him closer, waters pushing them farther apart. Finally, he glances upward, eyes landing on the larger bolder approaching them. He curses arching his body around the kid in panic. 

“No, No-” His back slams into the rock, head smashing into the bolder with a great impact.

The air escapes his lungs, vision going black just as his whole form went limp.

Then he felt nothing. 

________

Tony comes to in miserable pain; lungs burning and his head throbbing from a killer ache. Distant memories of a hangover come to him, the breathlessness and pain of him emptying his stomach plaguing him. But instead of the sour bile of the previous night's alcohol, he only tastes the bitterness of saltwater. It coats his mouth, chap lips slipping at the slightest movement.

Eyes still closed, a groan escapes him; sluggish hand brushing over a grainy substance coating his face. It scrapes against his skin, grain texture almost resembling sand. Above him, voices loom, soft voices mixing in with the sound of crashing water. His brows furrow, metallic taste of blood coating his saltwater mouth.

The voices above sounded young, one a boy and the other female. Someone then holds his sand-covered hand; shaky grip squeezing, shaking his arm trying to stir him. He lets out another muffled groan, body protesting any movement.

“T’Challa, he’s awake!”

Tony finally snaps out of his aching daze, name processing in his brain as his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, memories of the hunters and bridge washing over him just like the river did. He heaves in panic, smaller hands keeping him from shooting up so quickly. His blurry vision comes to focus, the stinging sensation from the saltwater subsiding as a familiar head of messy curls come into view. 

_ Peter. _

He shoots up anyway, calloused hands grabbing the stunned boy by the shoulders searching for any injuries. Panic bubbled in his chest, eyes scanning every inch of the soaking wet and shivering kid. His shaking hands move without any thought, fingers messy with the kid’s curls. 

“Hey old man,” The kid finally rasps out with a small smile. “We’re alive.”

_ Alive, they were alive. _

_ He was breathing, the kid was breathing- _

_ They're fine. _

Tony’s gaze lingers on the shivering kid, eyes doing a double, triple check over him in case he missed anything. Peter helps him off the sand, grains sticking to his wet clothes as a cluster of familiar voices come up from ahead. Back on his feet, he doesn’t shift his gaze, panic soon replaced with the growing anger at himself for even passing out in the surging waters.

Peter couldn’t swim, the poor kid clutching onto him as they were tossed down the river and he just passed out. 

The kid could have died.

_ And he would never forgive himself.  _

Anger growing, a males voice cuts through his daze.

“See, what did I tell you?”

Tony’s brain finally snaps into focus, anger shifting from himself to the man smugly walking over to them as if nothing happened back at the gate. 

T’Challa gestures to Peter. “See kid? He’s fine, maybe a bit waterlogged but all good.”

Fury rises in him, mind reeling with the fact that his man’s actions earlier left them at the mercy of the Hunter’s bullets and Humvee. They could have been killed long before the river and yet this guy was standing there with a smug grin. Tony lets out a low growl, a flicker of anger raging inside him. 

His sister, Shuri standing just to side, eyes him suspiciously; body tensing as she senses his mood shift. Her eyes follow him, watching with worry as he walks up inches away from her brother rambling on.

“You know, my sister was the one that spotted you guys. You took on quite a bit of water when-”

Emotions taking over, Tony roughly shoves the man to the ground. The anger inside festers washing over him as his mask crumbles. 

T’Challa hits the ground in shock. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Images flash in his mind, a replay of the drowned kid floating ashore mixing in with the horrid memories of his wife and Maria laying on the sand blood pooling around them. His normally put together persona breaks into pieces, his hands recklessly pointing his pistol at the man on the ground. Tears threaten to spill, twenty years of panic and pain coming to surface unable to be bottled. 

Shuri beside her brother stares in shock, hand reaching out trying to diffuse the situation. She goes to grab the gun, body jolting as Tony turns the gun on her telling her to back the hell up. When she does, his gaze intently returns back to her brother, gun shifting downward.

“Hey, hey, hey,” T’Challa tries to draw all the attention back to him. He breathes heavily trying to keep his sister away. “Shuri, he’s rightfully pissed but he isn’t going to do anything.”

“You sure about that?” He snaps back, voice like venom. 

" _ Stop! _ ” The kid’s voice breaks through the madness; stained and scared voice enough to make him break eye contact and turn around. Peter puts a hand on his arm, eyes pleading with him. “You don’t need to do this.”

Tony pauses for a few long seconds, crumbling mask slowly trying to reassemble. His rage lessens, his old persona coming back into place as he turns his back on the kid. He sniffs, any tears threatening to spill long gone before he turns back.

“He left us to die out there,” He grits out.

T’Challa, still on the sand, offers up a hand in surrender. “No, you both had a good chance of making it. _And you did._ You two were surviving long before us. Coming back for you meant putting _her_ at risk," He gestures to Shuri still on edge itching to grab the gun off her backpack. "And I don't care if she can handle herself, would you have come back for us if it was the other way around?”

He ponders for another second, tight grip on his gun loosening. Would he actually come back to save them? He wants to believe he would, his old self would have in a heartbeat. But twenty years later, he knows deep down he possibly would have dragged the kid along. 

“They pulled us out, Mr. Stark," Peter says, hand still resting on his arm, voice much softer. He stares at him with pleading eyes, hand slowly pushing his arm down. "We would have drowned if he didn't.”

Tony stares back at the man, then to Shuri guilt growing in his stomach for even pointing a gun at kid basically the same age as Peter.

_ What monster was he turning into? _

With a loud huff, he puts his gun away shrugging the kid’s arm off a bit more roughly than he likes. Instead of apologizing, he only takes a few steps back trying to collect himself from lashing out again. 

Awkward silence lingers between the group, T’Challa muttering something as he brushes the sand off himself. When Tony spares a glance towards the siblings, he comes face to face with one of Shuri’s menacing glares. Her lips form a frown, sharp dark eyes sending a chill down his spine. 

Her brother noticing his glaring sister cleared his throat. “You know,” He tries to offer an olive branch of sorts, his own eye pleading with his sister to stop. “For what's it worth, I'm really glad we spotted you two." He changes his tone, tense shoulders drooping a bit. The radio tower I mentioned earlier is on the other side of that cliff." 

He points in the direction, dragging his sister along with a sigh. She gives Tony another good glare before huffing and turning to face the direction he was walking in.

"Place is going to be full of supplies, you'll be happy you didn't kill him.”

The siblings run up ahead after that, conversion between them about searching for any form of supplies on their way to the radio tower. Peter doesn’t move quite yet, eyes watching him with worry. Tony doesn’t meet his gaze, lips drawn in a tight line.

“I know that was intense,” The kid mutters, rubbing his arms trying to gain a bit of warmth. “But I’m okay, I promise.”

_ Promises still don’t change previous events.  _

Tony turns to say something, words falling short as the kid surprises him with another hug. Only this time, it wasn’t some short panicked grip like before: it was much more meaningful than before. 

_ And he still didn’t mind it. _

On the kid’s part, both of his arms were wrapped under his shoulders, face buried in his chest as he refused to move. He, on the other hand, stood there awkwardly mentally debating how he should even return the hug. His body seemed to only tense up, limbs unsure what to do. It was foreign ground right about now, a simple gesture he hasn’t done in  _ years.  _

After Pepper, after Rhodey left, human touch wasn’t exactly his main goal anymore. And Maria no matter how much he loved her like a sister wasn’t much of a hugger, to begin with. Even if his old ass was touch starved at this point, his arms don’t return the hug so willingly. Instead, it’s a light pat on the back, one hand messing with the kid’s damp mess of curls. 

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Finally, the kid breaks off the hug, a cute ass smile warming his heart even more. Peter runs his fingers through his messed up curls, laughing a bit before turning to follow the siblings. 

Tony only lingered for a few more seconds, mind trying to comprehend what just happened. He blinked, panicking from the growing bond he had with the kid. He told himself so many times to not grow attached and yet-

_ He’s grown attached. _

The realization weights on him like a ton of bricks, mouth going dry. His mind playing games filling his head with dreaded thoughts like it always did with anyone he cares about.

_ Him being the very reason why Peter would get killed. _

_ And he can’t have that. _

_ He can’t… _

_ He’d rather die.  _

Self-loathing set aside, he finally starts to walk with the kid. Large boat wreckage coming to view as Peter studies it with wide eyes. Upon first glance, the ship was surrounded by driftwood and metal scraps. The ship was a rusted blue, faded lettering reading _‘Stature.’_ The sand around it was piled into large banks, slow waves crashing onto the mounds as hordes of seaweed cover the boat entirely. By the looks of it, the boat had been here for some years, wear and tear from the constant water flow.

Once they were closer to Stature, broken crab traps laid thrown about. Splintered wood scattered across the beach as some got carried out by the waves. Climbing aboard, old tangled netting covers the deck, remaining fabric falling in the large gaping hold in the center. Sand coats the deck as well, broken glass crunching under his boots as he walks around the hole to the rusted door leading to what looks like the captain's courtiers. With a tug, the heavy door moves rust crumbling to as it creaks open. 

Once inside the dark room, a quick search turns up a few supplies such as nail bomb parts and bandages. However, what caught his attention was the slightly faded note sitting in a pile of sand. 

_ Well... It's looking like I've dodged the chaos and the mayhem long enough. My time out at sea is coming to an end. I'm short on supplies and this boat has seen better days. And you know what... This was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it's time to go see what's left of mankind.  _

_ What could possibly go wrong, right? _

_ If you happen to find my skeleton, please don't step on my skull. Thanks.  _

_ Scott Lang. _

Just as he reads the last few words, the kid comes through the doorway, a small whistle escaping his lips. “Whoa, this much than getting chased by seagulls.”

Tony deadpans shaking his head. “Three things,” He begins fighting back a dumb smile. “One, all that time in the zone and you haven’t seen a boat? Secondly, don’t chase birds, they’ll peck your eyes out. And finally-” He stops watching the kid with an amused smile as the boy rolls his eyes. “Just because you learned how to whistle today doesn’t mean you have to do it every time you walk into a room.”

“Three things,” Peter mocks back with the same amount of sass. “Yes, I've seen them at the wharf," He deadpans. "But certainly haven't been on one even if this one will sink once in the water. Secondly, don’t hate, the Seagulls were cute. And lastly, you're just jealous that I can whistle better than you.” 

“You mean the weird breathy whistle you do?”

“Hey!” The kid exclaims giving him the finger. 

“Aw pour spider-baby,” He coos with laughter as he leaves the room with the pouting boy. “Quick pouting we still have the bottom of the ship to explore.”

“Still jealous,” The kid huffs hopping into the hole first.

“Mhmm hmm.”

Once his feet hit the sand below, Tony is met with a small amount of light leaking through the huge slice in the ship. Jagged metal peels back, years of wear and tear making the hole much worse than it was. Avengers propaganda is spray-painted on the back of the ship, Steve’s shield logo dried with multiple paint drips. 

Peter searches around as Tony stares at the logo, jealousy blooming ever so slightly. He knew that he was taking the kid to the Avengers, to find whatever cure this kid could have but deep down he didn’t necessarily like the idea of just giving him over. 

_ God, he needed to stop getting so attached. _

A short search later, and they’re back on the outside listening to waves push another smaller boat against some rocks. They walk along the shoreline, puddles of water everywhere as they pass another broken remains of a boat. 

“What’s the deal huh? Peter asks, jumping into a puddle like a child. "Everyone just had boats back then?

“Yeah, I had a sixty-foot yacht," He replies. 

“Really?!”

He deadpans. "No.”

_ More like 80 feet but he wasn't about to go into the life story of how twenty years ago he was some CEO with his wife of a billion-dollar tech company.  _

Money didn’t matter anyway, especially not now. Today any form of currency was in ration cards, supplies, favors, or skill sets. That’s what keeps you alive not some green paper everyone used to strive after. 

"Right....sarcasm," The kid shoots him finger guns hopping in another puddle.

“Hey, slowpokes!" Shuri calls from up ahead, body standing on rocks. "We found something!”

A quick jaunt away from the shore, they find Shuri standing above them on a cluster of rocks with a small stream escaping. Gesturing them upward, they climb the rocks, feet splashing in the small stream before reaching level ground. They walk a foot through the overgrown plant life, finally stumbling upon T’Challa with his back turned to them shining his flashlight through the grate of the large drainage pipe. 

The sky grew darker as they approached, an evening chill settling in. Water continues to pour from the drain, heavy steam muddying the ground. Small cliff sides form around the drain, a rotting body laying to the side: unturned and slowly turning to bones. 

T’Challa finally speaks. “I bet this goes all the way through.” He turns to the group, hands latching onto the bars of the grate. “Gimme a hand with this.”

Together both men lift the heavy grate, screeching as the rusted metal crumbled in their hands. They heave, finally lifting the grate up enough for the kids to go through. Their boots slosh through the water, flashlights filling up the pipe. Tony goes in next, body shifting to hold the grate up from the inside to let his friend through. With another screech, the gate closes behind T'Challa.

The group stares down the eerie pipe, any light filling the tunnel barely doing anything to make it less creepy. Walking through, the walls all around them were covered in mosses and algae, water flowing as it rose to their ankles. 

Another few feet, the pipe finally splits off into two paths: two different areas to see. Without much discussion the group splits off, the siblings taking the left as Tony and Peter take the right. Their side was mostly uneventful; water stopping as they climb steps passing by mounds of sand and trash build-up. Midway through the hallway has a break in it, archway leading to the other side the siblings were searching. They pass by, their pathway ending in blocked doors. 

“Hey, this way!” Shuri’s voice echoes. “It looks like there’s a path up ahead.”

Once the group was back together, they were met with a split level with stairs leading to waist-deep water and the upper part leading to jail-like bars with the door completely missing. Through the darkness, they travel to another area, evening light coming from the outside. Above the roof lays crumbling into the large room, vines, and other plant life growing around the fallen concrete. Below, the water comes up to about neck level, the water drainage lever jammed and unmoving. 

“So uh,” Peter shifts nervously staring at the water. “I can’t swim.”

“Welcome to the club,” Shuri huffs, keeping her distance from the water as well.

Studying the room, Tony notices a generator across the water, eyes shifting down to see themselves standing on some sort of track. 

“If we get this track going, it could take you two over,” He says, still making some sort of plan.”

“Three,” T’Challa corrects.

“What?”

“Hate to break it to you but I can’t swim either.”

“Hm,” He nods, slipping off his pack and handing it to the kid. “Guess I’m going for a swim.” 

Fully knowing he couldn’t climb up to the generator area, he dives under; swimming towards whatever object was jamming the water drainage door. With a few tugs, the pipe came free, floating in the water as he surfaces. He gasps, turning to T’Challa gesturing for him to open the door as he swam towards the league he hopped off of. 

As the door finally opens, Tony expects the water to slowly go out but instead, it only reveals another room filled with more water. With a heavy sigh, he turns back around staring at the three non-swimmers. 

“I’ll go check out the other room, see what I can find.” He glances at Peter. “No hopping into these waters until I get back.”

“Thanks, Peter for your quick thinking before we turned into hunter shish kabobs,” The kid mocks back.

“More like a death wish but okay.”

“Just be careful,” Peter mutters, changing his tone.

“Always am.” 

Driving under once more, Tony surfaces in another area filled with much more light. Plants and other living things hanging out in the marshy areas as he swims his way over to another ledge. Shaking off the water droplets from his hair, he jaunts up a few stairs, eyes settling on the wood pallets laid against the railing. 

Just as quickly he got out, he was back in the water swimming with a pallet to the area he just let. Once the kid came into sight, he almost laughed out loud at the displeased expression coming from the pouting boy remembering his time in the flooded subway. 

“Surprise,” He smirks pushing the pallet to the ledge. 

“Oh, this again…” Peter sighs heavily through his nose. “Joy.”

“Just hop on you big baby.”

Shuri chimes in. “Is that even safe?”

“It’s wood, he’ll float.”

As the kid muttered something about _‘asshole hunters’_ before hopping onto the pallet. Tony then pushed the kid over to the higher ledge where the generator sat, watching as the spider-kid climbed his way up to the generator. Moments later, the machine was up and running: track carrying over the siblings as Peter helped him from the water. 

“I have to say,” T’Challa offers Tony, his pack once the track stops moving. “I’m impressed with you two.”

“You can say we’re experts by now,” The kid joked doing those adorably stupid finger guns. 

Flicking some water droplets onto the kid as he laughs, the ground moves through the drainage area. The hallways and rooms become bone dry, drainage areas turning into actual rooms than a jail cell. When they walk through the hundredth hallway, they reach a door covered in child-like drawings. The groups press forward, door opening just as glass bottles fell to the floor shattering into pieces. 

They all stop dead in their tracks, Tony already putting a protective arm out in front of Peter. His eyes followed the pieces up to the broken crate hanging from rope swaying in the air. 

It dawns on him, guard dropping slightly. “Sound trap.”

“A what?” T’Challa asks.

“It's a sort of alarm. Someone used to live here.” Tony eyes the ‘House Rules’ sign and the broken and decaying state of the hideout. “Doesn't look like that's the case anymore.”

They funnel into the hideout careful, red rules displayed for them to see.

**_Important Please Read_ **

_ Make sure doors are locked _

_ Ask for the password if you don't know the visitor.  _

_ No shouting or noisy play. _

_ Run to the hiding spot when you hear the alarm. _

“Who would even stay in here,” Peter mutters gesturing back to the water area they came from. 

“Someone who thought they could keep a place like this safe.”

The more they walked, the more of the old hideout they were able to see. Workbenches with a new gun and crates lay throughout, broken bunk beds, and trash showing some sort of panic. Little small touches sit throughout; radios, chairs, books, and a soccer goal spray painted displaying a group who called this place home. 

Shorty in hand, Tony loads his new gun up with ammo pleased with his find. The group travels through the hideout, heading into a new area as the sound of the infected echoed through the rooms. They all stop, silence curses escaping as they all whip out some sort of weapons. Moments later as they traveled down some stairs as a runner came out of nowhere charging at them with fury.

_ “Look out!”  _

Tony’s head whips around just in time to fire off a shot before the damn infected took a chunk out of his kid. The shot echoed as Peter finished off the runner just as more runners came speeding down some steps. 

A fight ensues with gunshots and other weapons such as metal pipes and brass knuckles taking down a mix of runners and newly added clickers. After a few more minutes the last clicker fell, the group heaving and covered in some blood splatters. 

“I guess we know what happened to those people,” Shuri observes.

“Seeing how there were a few clickers, they've been gone for a while,” Her brother follows her observation. 

“Let's keep moving," Tony sighs with a bad feeling sitting in his gut. "And hope that was all the freaks down here.”

They press forward, stumbling through the area the infected just came from. Soon they find a makeshift laundry area; plastic tubs filled with collected water, clothes, and soap. Besides the mound of clothes, another note lays there, a familiar name from boat catching his eye.

_ Hey Hope, _

_ I just wanted to drop you a quick line and say these rain-catchers were a great idea. Super smart to gather water without leaving the place. _

_ I hope you don't mind, but I gave Cassie a couple of water guns. So of course... I've been drenched all day. _

_ If you don't want her to have it, let me know and I'll take them back. _

_ See you at dinner tonight. Fair warning though — Your father is making his special "meatloaf" again. _

_ Scott. _

The sinking feeling in Tony’s gut grew, mention of a kid making his mind linger to the thought of children clickers. Leaving that area, his feelings only grew more as they searched around the fallen base left in disarray. A kid’s area comes into view, drawings, books, basically anything that screamed children was here. A family drawing of two parents and a little girl makes him want to hurl. Left hand trembling as his brain replayed that horrid memory from twenty years ago. 

“Damn,” Peter mutters, pulling him out of his daze just to see the dead body laying by a stack of books.

He works his way over, eyes catching another note half expecting to see a list of kids who were dead or missing. 

_ We're trapped. I think everyone else is dead. Some of the little ones are with me. I got infected pounding at the door. I don't know how long we'll hold out. If Hope and the others are alive, maybe they can reach us. They have to reach us. _

_ If it comes down to it I'll make it quick. _

_ Hank. _

A lump grows in his throat, the rings around his neck weighing heavy. He fixes the chain, shaking, wanting to rip off the hot metal against his neck. He steadies himself, eyes close trying not to lose himself in front of everyone. Pushing every emotion down, he marches on with a heavy pain gripping his very soul. 

After a couple of rooms of pure silence, they come upon another crumbling area with overgrown plant life. The hole above seemed closer, just twelve feet or more from where they stood. The evening light shines through, almost enticing them to climb up. 

“You think that leads out?” The kid asks.

“Possibly but it’s too high for a boost,” T’Challa answers. 

“I could climb it.”

That comment makes the somber Tony perk up, a slight worry coursing through him as his head turns to face the reckless kid. 

“And break your face,” He barks out.  _ “No.” _

Peter being  _ Peter _ , huffs before sticking his tongue out mockingly before trying to plead his case. “Just because your old man joints don’t-”

“Kid-”

“You're old, we get it-”

“Pete-”

“Literally I could scale-”

“ _ Peter! _ ” He huffs, gesturing his hand towards another door just feet away. “This old man would not like to decapitate himself trying to climb crumbling rocks.”

“Whatever,” The kid rolls his eyes. “We’ll take the boring way.”

“Oh, my-” Tony just shakes his head walking over to the door as the kid tried to make his case to T’Challa.

Shuri laughing at his antics instead follows Tony over to the door. “We all know you just don’t want to throw your back out.”

“Oi!” His head snaps upward, hand on the handle of the door. “I’m not that old.”

“Sure.”

“I’m surrounded by another one, God,” He sighs.

Distracted by Shuri’s laughter and the previous conversation, he opens the door without a proper check.

_ Big mistake. _

Just as the door opened, gears clicked together as another trap activated. A barrel falls to the floor loudly, sand pouring out. Startled he jumps back with Shuri, eyes wide as more gears click behind him. He arcs his head just as a large metal wall slams down from above, metal echoing through the now split hallway. 

An audible gasp leaves Tony’s mouth, legs moving towards the wall with panic. T’Challa as well sprints up to the wall, head appearing through the bars in the middle. Panic just grips his lungs as he stares at Peter on the other side of him, a solid wall keeping him away from his kid. 

“Shit,” He curses. “I must have triggered some safety gate. We might be able to lift it.”

Together both men tried to lift the wall, heaving as it barely moved an inch even with the kid’s help. They curse, both kids awkwardly looking as the men panic lift.

“So,” The kid tries to lighten the mood leaning against the wall. “How’s the weather over there?”

“Kid-”

“I-” A snort escapes Shuri. “You and your terrible-”

Peter’s chill attitude changes, body going tense as clickers echoed in the hall. “Clickers!”

Tony then pops up in a panic, brain screaming at him to get this metal gate opened. He heaves, struggling to lift it up. 

_ He needed to be with his kid, he couldn’t just- _

“This thing ain’t moving,” T’Challa huffs in panic.

“Just-” His brain did mental backflips, eyes staring at the kid with his ax out and ready. And as much as he hated the idea, his mouth uttered the dreaded words. “Get out of here.”

Panic bubbles in his chest, memories of their time back in Boston coming back in their full glory. Them getting separated, Maria getting bit, Maria dying-

“Stay with Tony, ok?” T’Challa looks at his sister intently. “Do not go off on your-”

“We need to move now!” Peter yells, dragging him in panic as clickers moved into the room. 

“You keep her safe!” Her brother calls out.

“You keep him safe!”

And then, Tony watches in horror as Peter runs off without him. Panic still trembles inside him, lungs burning and hands shaking. He takes a step back, eyes watching the clickers hobble on by until they disappear. 

Finally, he turns back to Shuri, the same worry edged upon her face. “Let’s uh-” He swallows the lump in this throat. “Let’s find a way out of here.”

She nods heading through the door leading the way as Tony could only think of two things.

_ Please don’t die, please don’t die. _

_ I can’t lose you.  _


	14. Only Human After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the world went to shit, Tony could vividly recall Pepper's gentle but stern tone telling him to manage his stress; to take better steps to manage his heart. So he did, tried yoga with his wife, some lame ass meditation, therapy, hell even taking a step back as CEO. He was still trying to manage the day Happy came crashing through his backdoor and somehow, twenty years later he was doing okay -- an alcoholic with underlying PTSD sure, but he was managing. 
> 
> Well, he was, until his dumbass set off some metal door trap that left him and the kid separated.
> 
> So yeah, he’s pretty sure he was on the verge of a heart attack right now.
> 
> Peter, the kid, his kid, was stuck on the other side running for his dear life with T’Challa, a man who he sorta trusted but the man did leave them to the hunters. So nothing off the books at this point even if Tony didn’t think the man would shove the kid to the clickers. He was still stuck with Shuri and so help him if Peter wasn’t alive when-
> 
> Beach Tony was going to return in its full glory.
> 
> _And that person scared him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death. Mention of suicide (not graphic depiction). Mentions of blood/gore, guns, alcohol, and death

Before the world went to shit, Tony could vividly recall Pepper's gentle but stern tone telling him to manage his stress; to take better steps to manage his heart. So he did, tried yoga with his wife, some lame ass meditation, therapy, hell even taking a step back as CEO. He was still trying to manage the day Happy came crashing through his backdoor and somehow, twenty years later he was doing okay -- _an alcoholic with underlying PTSD sure_ , but he was managing. 

Well, he was, until his dumbass set off some metal door trap that left him and the kid separated.

So yeah, he’s pretty sure he was on the verge of a heart attack right now.

Peter, the kid, _his_ kid, was stuck on the other side running for his dear life with T’Challa, a man who he sorta trusted but the man did leave them to the hunters. So nothing off the books at this point even if Tony didn’t think the man would shove the kid to the clickers. He was still stuck with Shuri and so help him if Peter wasn’t alive when-

Beach Tony was going to return in its full glory.

_And that person scared him._

Among his few moments of panic and horror, watching the kid disappear from his sight: he and Shuri were certainly not out of the woodwork. Truth be told, this whole hideout was just another death trap for desperate groups trying to get around the beach. They were only a few steps into the other room with the damn barrel that started this mess before the first runner came charging at them. 

Shuri is the first one to fire off a shot, her own panic plastered across her face as more infected reared their heads towards them. It was an honest mess after that.

The large room was lined with shelves and columns, freaks weaving in and out of spots all trying to bite into them. Molotovs were thrown, flames erupting as screeching infected jerked and slumped to the ground as gunshots echoed. Saving ammo, they’re both began bashing in infected heads; him using his blood-covered metal pipe and Shuri waving around her bat like a madwoman. 

Blood and brain matter litter the floors, Shuri twirling her bat fending off two clickers without batting an eye. Tony roughly kicks the last runner to the ground, his newly required Shorty sending a bullet through its head with a heavy breath. 

They move forward, guns fully out as clickers come funneling out of a makeshift library. The infected come at them with a hunger motivated frenzy, bodies slumping to the floor before their cold dead hands can grab them. After a few moments, the final clicker stands screeching as its fugal head whips around. Shuri quickly shoots it mid screech, body joining its friends on the blood floor.

Tony lets out a shaky breath, heart pounding in his chest, frame shaking from panic. His mind lingers back to the kid, a lump growing in his throat at the sheer thought of a bigger horde attacking him. 

“You good?” Shuri asks, breathing heavily and on edge.

_Hell no._

“Y-Yeah, let's keep moving.”

Pressing forward, they weave through the eerily quiet areas of the hideout. Together they stumble into a large bedroom, a decaying state of life laid out for them. Their eyes were met with two decomposing bodies, blood splattered against the concrete as the lingering smell of decay takes over the room. Tony gags at the dreaded smell, stomach-churning as roaches scatter across the room. On the far wall away from bodies; bunk beds and clothes sat mot-eaten covered in a thick layer of dust. Beside the beds, kid's chalk drawings litter the walls, faded hues adding a personal touch to the grey walls.

They follow the drawings towards another room, audibly gagging at another horrid smell: abandoned food storage. Rotten food intertwined with more bodies, the smell unbearable as they rushed out of the room. Together they walk as far as they could, trying to leave the smell behind them. When the smell became bearable again, they found themselves in a small nursery shifting into a classroom.

Tony stops immediately, a lump growing in his throat as his mind lingers back to the ultrasound sitting in his backpack. He runs his fingers over the dusty cribs, eyes gazing on the different baby toys serving as another bitter reminder of what this world took from him. The weight around his neck grows heavy, the metal growing hot against his skin.

_You're going to be a dad, Tony-_

_He never was...he failed them, failed everyone._

It takes him a few moments to pull himself from his somber gaze, eyes darting to Shuri taking in the classroom set up. It resembles a Pre-K class; whiteboards, foam numbers, and educational posters all meant for a child left to collect dust.

She turns to him uneasy. “These people, they had everything planned, a whole society down here and yet-" She stops picking up a dust-covered teddy bear. "Why couldn't they keep this place safe?”

He stares at her, watching a small glimmer of hope leave her eyes. “I wish I knew," He finally mutters. "They didn't deserve to end up like that.”

_No kid deserved to live in this hellhole._

Somberly, they move on, Shuri’s yellow bomber jacket leading the way as his eyes painfully lingered on the room one more time. He couldn't dwell on the past much longer, there was no way to bring his wife and child back from the dead. He had another kid to find, to protect to his dying breath.

_Maria's last wish._

_A second chance at father-_

The thought leaves his head as quickly as it appeared. Him, a father? That train left the station twenty years ago when Pepper's life faded from her eyes. 

_It was pointless, another buried emotion to lock away forever._

The worried pair walk in silence, both dealing with their own mental demons. They only snapped out of their dazes when a larger wall blocks their path. The concrete looms over them, crumbling holes almost chiseled away as footholds. Shuri is the first to take on the crumbling grips, scaling the wall with ease. He follows her actions shortly after, rock climbing the damn obstacle in his way. Once on the higher ground, their gazes settle on the dim image of another drainage area thankfully dry. 

As they walk forward, a panicked voice booms down the hallway.

_“Fucking freak!”_

Tony stops dead in his tracks, ears processing the younger male voice. His feet move forward and pass Shuri without another thought, heart pumping in his chest.

“Is that-?” Shuri's eyes go wide, an almost relieved expression settling on her face.

Recklessly they both hop into the drainage area filled with the common theme of cracked concrete and overgrown plant life. Gunshots go off, a flash of light drawing their attention to the hallway to their far left. T’Challa is the first one to appear, breathing heavily as Tony scatters to his feet, already walking over to the slightly panicked kid with great haste.

_“Pete--!”_

_“Shuri--!”_

The kid stumbles on a few rocks, body tackling Tony into another bone-crushing hug. He stands there shocked again, hands slowly giving in and wrapping around Peter. They stay in that embrace for a few more seconds, only for his arm to be yanked back by T’Challa; the man urges them forward, his weapon still drawn. 

“We gotta keep running," He glances back protectively holding onto his sister.

Peter, still holding on, breaks the hug, eyes wide remembering the threat at hand. He pulls Tony forward just in time for him to see runners screeching as they run into the room hungry and unmatched. Whipping out his gun, he's dragged away by the kid curiously wondering just how many infected were chasing them. T'Challa takes the lead dragging his sister through another door, hellbent on surviving this mess. The group stumbles through the doorframe as runners appear, a whole horde bursting from the hallway. They become easily outnumbered, panic washing over the group. 

“Run!” The kid shouts. “There's too many of them!”

He books it, bringing up the rear to ensure that no runners could lunge for the kids. As the infected loomed closer, Tony could feel their breaths on the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine. His mind goes elsewhere, troubling thoughts of the very first time running from the infected with an injured Pepper. Memories flash, emotions of pure terror awaking from his first encounter against these monsters with a thirst for flesh. Mind overwhelmed, he crashes into the kid snapping back to reality as Shuri yanks him forward like a ragdoll for the hundredth time.

He stumbles again, eyes just catching Peter whacking the closest runner before slamming the metal door shut and locking it. Dust blossoms into the air, runners pounding on the doors with a fury. Everyone stares at the weak door with worry, all refusing to speak. Peter only wheezes before anyone could utter a word, taking a huff of his inhaler still too close to the shaking door.

“Pete,” Tony snaps back to focus, heart pounding. He's not losing anyone today. “Get away from the door.”

“Uh-” T'Challa tries another cell door, gesturing for someone. "Maybe if we push this together-”

The door shakes from the impact of runners, both men crashing against the cell door jammed with a pipe. They try one more time, cursing as the door barely moves. Suddenly Peter gasps beside them, both men looking over as Shuri is mid-crawl through a small vent next to the cell doors.

“She just crawled through!”

“Shuri, what _the hell are you doing?!”_

A few moments later, she appears on the other side covered in dust. She brushes herself off, running over to the jammed cell door.

“Getting us the hell out of here!”

Quickly, she frees the door, the group rushing forward as she tries to jam the pipe back in place. She curses as the rusted pipe falls apart in her hands, brother dragging her along and telling her to just leave it. Together the group sprints up a set of stairs, panic still coursing through them. They slow their pace when there's a floor between them and infected, stumbling into an old office filled with more decaying bodies. Just as they take a breather, a loud crash echoes from the floor below. Screeches fill the stairwell, pounding mass of freaks surging towards them.

T'Challa scatterbrained tries a door that leads to the only exit, banging against the lower window leading towards the outside. "Damn thing's stuck!"

“Gimme a boost!" Peter runs over as Tony watches the stairwell they just came from. "I can get through the window!"

Spider-Man style, Peter flips outside, arms outstretch helping Shuri to the other side. The kid's fumble with the lock on the outside, leaving the two men to fend off the oncoming runners. Tony already readies another Molotov as runners move closer, heart pumping with adrenaline. The first five runners burst through the doorway, instantly catching on fire with painful screams. Their howls echo, as both men move away from the fires, guns out and ready for the next wave.

When a few runners run through the flames; they’re dealt with led, bullets filling their bodies. Carefully, they work their way through the office, fighting off the horde as more gunshots go off every few seconds. Another few minutes go by, more filing in when Peter calls out. 

“Door’s open!”

They squeeze through the small crack in record speed, Tony being the last one out as he sets another wave on fire. Leaving the infected to burn, he escapes to the outside to shift gears from attack to defensive mode. The group struggles to keep the freaks inside the office, then opting for a vending machine in panic. T'Challa holds the door shut, free hand latching onto the bent metal to help the others pull the damn over. In a few more moments of struggle, the machine finally stays in place; the infected still pounding against the blocked door. 

Sure the door wasn't going to burst open, the group takes a few good steps away. Now outside and out of harm's way, everyone takes one deep breath. The morning light peaks through the trees, a small warm breeze rustling the leaves. The pounds of infected slowly fades to the background, frenzy dying out as they linger off elsewhere.

“Fresh air," Tony sighs closing his eyes and breathing deep.

"Are you-" Peter huffs out in a fit anger. Sighing as he gestures to the red writing on the white brick next to the door. "You gotta be kidding me.”

**_WARNING: Infected Inside. Do. NOT. Open._ **

“Thanks for the warning on the other side, guys.”

Tony shakes his head, patting the grumpy kid on the head messing with his curls. "Rule 129 of Apocalypse: Don't expect written warnings.” 

“Oh haha," The kid tries to shoo the man's hand away. “I don’t know about anyone else but I think I’m officially done with Pittsburgh for a while.”

“Don’t blame you, Kiddo,” He laughs once more glancing over to T’Challa checking over his sister. “Where’s this tower anyway?”

"Close enough,” The man sighs, running a hand over his face. “Let's go.”

As the group presses on, they stumble upon an overgrown path leading to a cluster of houses within a decaying neighborhood. Up ahead, the siblings talk with one another leading them to a stone pathway shaded by large trees. A few moments later, the radio tower comes into view, still a few miles away but much closer than before.

“Look at that,” T’Challa points. “We’re close, we just have to find a way around it.”

Still walking down the path, they follow it until the stones become a backroad leading behind houses covered in overgrown plant life. The houses around them sat rotting, windows mostly broken or boarded up; no signs of life anywhere to be seen. 

Tony, now a little bit less on edge, turns to check on the kid. “How are you holding up, Pete?”

“Pretty good, no major asthma attacks and the fresh air helps." He pauses slowing his pace to walk next to Tony, curls falling into his eyes smiling. "When I was with T'Challa, I took out a couple infected by myself with my gun. You'd be proud.”

_I’m already am._

“Huh, who would have thought BB gun practice actually works.”

_“Hey!”_

He only just laughs, messing up the kid’s curls.

________

Within the neighborhood, the group does what anyone else would have done: search for supplies.

For this neighborhood, most of the houses were decaying messes, some buildings just bare bones and falling in on itself. With the houses they could walk into, each home told their own stories of panic and loss. The walls and floors were covered in dirt, some plant life slowly branching through the open windows as birds chirp in distance. Some of the houses were mostly empty, furniture either pushed against walls or burned for heat. 

Supplies were not as abundant, but thanks to paths of old blood splatters and spray paint messages they did manage to snag a decent amount to take a small break in a house. The kids instantly took over the moth-eaten green couch; Peter making more nail bombs cutely sticking his tongue out as he concentrates letting Shuri takes his extras to fasten the sharp pieces to her bat with duct tape.

A peaceful silence follows, T’Challa searching through the kitchen as Tony leans against the wall chugging some water. His eyes linger on the kid’s just catching Shuri leaning closer to Peter, a question foaming at her lips.

“So how did you guys end up together?”

“Oh uh…” The kid trails off eyes glancing at Tony. "A friend of mine, N-Nat asked him to take me to the Avengers.”

“Hm," She hums, still wrapping nails around her bat. "A guy with connections I see.”

"Y-yeah…”

“For people just thrown together, you get along pretty well.”

“Yeah well," Peter relaxes a bit, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I sorta just boss him around now. Isn't that right old man?”

Tony deadpans, flipping off the kids as they break into giggles. He fights a smile, deciding to be somewhat useful, and bother the other sibling. As he walks in, T’Challa leans against the kitchen island eyes staring off into space. 

“You know," He smiles fondly at his sister before snagging a small bottle of pills. "I was only five when the cordyceps hit and my memory is a bit hazy but I do remember living in a neighborhood like this.”

"Trying to make me feel old?”

“No, just remembering," He sighs pointing to the dinner table, plates still set out for a meal. "Sitting at a table, similar to this stuffing my face with ice cream. The summer barbecues and the hordes of people my parents would invite. But the smell," He pauses reminiscing. "I remember more than anything.”

His mind lingers back to Pepper’s home cooking and the delicious take out he and Rhodey would get after long days of work. He smiles, bittersweets memories returning. 

“Trust me, I remember old smells too.”

Eventually, the group moves on, heading out the backdoor and down an incline to another street with a rusted mail truck taken over by plants. A few dogs chase each other in the distance, matted fur covered in dirt. They barked at each other, tails wagging as they played with each other. 

Peter marvels at the sight, legs taking him to the dogs with a smile. “Doggies-”

“Yeah no,” Tony is quick to grab the kid by the collar before he runs over. “I would stay away from them.”

“ _Tony,”_ The kid scowled. “They're dogs, _cute ass dogs._ ” 

He wasn’t sure when this transition from ‘Mr. Stark’ to ‘Tony’ happened but after all the shit they've been through, the kid deserves to call him whatever. If that meant him not bring up his whole Iron Man similarities, he'll take anything. Besides, he couldn't deny that they bonded; _well at least in his mind he could._

“Parker,” He mockingly scowls back. “These are wild dogs, not like the ones in the zone. These guys have rabies and other bugs. And especially if they’re hungry, they’ll tear into you without a second thought.” 

“All dogs are good dogs,” Peter affirms sparing another glance at the dogs. “Even if they have fleas.”

“Just don’t try to pet them,” He sighs, nearly laughing as the kid stares longing at the dogs. “Alright Spider-Baby, let’s move.”

“Sure thing Iron Man,” The kid huffs pouting.

“Iron Man?” Shuri asks.

Peter smirks mischievously. “Well-”

_Oh, God._

________

After another round of the kid trying to convince him of his likeness to this damn knight, the group moves through a couple more houses. It was uneventful for the most part, just some old camp set up collecting dust. To be honest, it was all a blur until Tony stumbled upon another note with the same messy handwriting from that owner of the ship.

_One open door. That's all it took. One of us forgot to close a door and a horde of those monsters entered our camp. We shut them in there and wrote a warning on the outside._

_Hope and Cassie are with me. As far as I know, we're the only survivors. I had to hold Hope so she wouldn't run back in there — go back for the bodies. It's just too dangerous. She lost her parents, and I have no clue what to say to her._

_Every part of my being just wants to give up. It'd be so easy to surrender to this world. I can't do that, to Hope, to Cassie, I can't. I have too much faith in humanity._

_I've seen that we're still capable of good. We can make it. I have to stay strong... For them._

_Scott Lang._

He now had his answers about the infected hideout and truth be told, Tony actually felt relieved that this guy made it out with his kid. At least someone could make it out with their loved ones. Briefly, he shows the rest of the group the note, a painful understanding falling among the group. They press forward after that, moving on and leaving that shithole behind them.

By the time they were back outside, they were all enjoying the peaceful aspects of the neighborhood. The cool breeze, warm sun, and the birds flying overhead were enough to bring their guards down. No infected hobbled about, the less threatening environment allowing them to joke around; a new trust forming between the group. 

They went down another incline, hopping onto an overgrown street with Tony leading the way. He turns laughing at a comment the kid made, some lame ass joke forming on his tongue until his heart nearly leaps out of his chest as a gunshot echoes through the air. The bullet shatters the car window _right_ next to him, sending everyone into a panic.

“ _Shit!”_ His fight or flight mode kicks in, ease leaving as another shot just misses the car. _“Get down!”_

The group quickly huddles against the car, their relaxed state replaced with one of panic. 

“Sniper,” Tony hisses inching closer to the kid.

“Did you see where it came from?” T’Challa asks with alarm.

"Ehh," He only manages to peek an eye over, his brain remembering some direction. "It was somewhere down the street." Another shot comes, glass raining down on the kids. Tony makes a plan already, glancing back over to the group. "Alright, you guys stay here.”

“No," Peter scowls once more.

“Before you start-" He hushes the kid with a stern look, finding it hard to look at his pleading eyes. "I need you guys to keep him busy. If they're distracted I can go around and try to get an angle on them.”

The kid bites his lip nervously, giving in. “Be careful, _please._ ”

“You too, Kiddo.”

Using the car as his cover, he moves around to the side of the house that covered him. He thanked his lucky stars for the large fences and basic structure of the houses; slowly scaling around to hide behind trashcans.

Suddenly a man calls out. “Show those cute faces!”

A sick feeling hits him, mind wondering if the hunters were still lurking around outside the zone; many what-ifs going through his head. Carefully he clears a yard, listening to the man’s rough voice taunting them to come out. He glances around, gun ready for any other humans. By the skin of his teeth, he dives into a house through a broken window, just missing the guy dropping down to hunt for the group.

_Of course, they were more people._

Now, it becomes a small game of cat and mouse, Tony shooting the man through another open window before moving on. Although he knew he wasn’t stupid when it came to stealthing, he certainly didn’t expect about seven men to come out of the woodwork. 

A fight ensues, men, taunting him to come out with their own version of Molotovs that lasted a little longer. Working through the ruins of decaying houses avoiding the flames, he’s able to pick off a few finally putting to use the smoke bombs he got forever ago. This wasn’t a stealth plan anymore, guns and other explosives were the way to go. 

It was only midway into the fight for him to realize that these bodies were in fact Hydra Hunters.

_For fuck's sake._

_Why couldn’t they leave them alone?_

Looting some ammo off the hunter, Tony uses the cover of the smoke bomb to surge forward into another cluster of houses. These homes instead have most of the furniture removed, boarded up windows meant for hideouts. Quickly, he’s able to lose the men working his way up the stairs in the house he saw the sniper from.

On the third floor, he finds the sniper nest, a small window alcove boarded up except for a small slit between the boards. Walking in, his eyes scanned the room for a hunter only for a few moments later to be shoved by the man with a murderous glare. He manages to catch himself, hand grabbing the man’s before the hunter is able to sink a rusty knife into him. They struggle for a few seconds, Tony grabbing the knife before sending it right into the man’s neck.

He stagers back, breathing heavily as adrenaline pumps through him. He zones out for a few seconds, mind finally snapping back once he hears gunshots. His eyes go wide, figure running up to the mounted sniper; looking through the scope to find more hunters firing at the group below. He watches in horror, reloading the gun as his mind flashes back to his time with Rhodey.

Before they parted ways, six months to be exact, he and his best friend were holed up in a shothole house like this watching as infected and raiders try to storm their hideout. It was supposed to be a simple supply run until his reckless ass decided to try and loot some other group's supplies. Turned out there was much more than the three he saw and they certainly knew how to let infected do the dirty work for them. 

He remembers looking through a sniper scope, both men fighting and cursing at each other trying to pick off the infected before the raiders broke the door down. Somehow they managed to get out of there alive but at the cost of another endless fight, he and Rhodey had. It got so bad that they didn’t talk for weeks, only finally speaking when Maria locked them in a room together. 

Soon after that, Rhodey joined the Avengers leaving on not so great terms. 

He really hasn’t used a sniper since, hands trembling as guilt and panic mixed with each other. Silently, he watches for the men waiting for a head to appear as the hunters still believed the sniper was on their side. He lines up a shot, stopping as he watches their gaze shifts; the hunters now firing at a pink house. He watches the bullets fly into the structure, just catching the group duck through an open door.

Panic bubbles in his chest, worry about the bullets hitting the group as he fires with every form of curses coming from his mouth. Just as some of the men start to go down, allowing the group to move towards his house, their old pal, the Humvee comes rolling down the street. In its full rusted glory, the vehicle begins firing the mounted machine gun. A jarring red 'RUN' is sprayed-painted on all sides, crazy men laughing at the destruction.

More curses escape him, panicked gaze watching mounted machine-gun fire at will in the surrounding area. Cars sparked from contact; glass shattering and wood breaking from the sheer force. Finally, his eyes catch the group again, mouth going dry as he watches Peter duck and hide for his dear life. He angrily fires at the Humvee hoping to get another hunter as they taunt the group for escaping. 

As the street becomes a mess of guns, the asshats somehow still alive began trying to avoid the gunfire of his sniper. Tony watches the kid peak up, firing at the damn Humvee with a pistol giving him a near heart attack.

_Oh, this reckless kid._

The vehicle moves closer to the car, a hunter popping out to throw a Molotov at their hiding spot laughing as they flee from the burning car. More fire is thrown, flames spreading as Tony gets the idea to fire at the man peeking out.

Patiently, he waits, reloading the sniper as the hunter pops out once more holding a lit Molotov. He fires two shots, watching as the flames explode within the Humvee. The hunter peeking out burns first, body falling out as the flaming vehicle spins out of control crashing into a porch of a nearby house. 

When the group peaks out of their cover alive, Tony sighs in relief. Peter cheers, smiling brightly as he gives his two thumbs up yelling something along the lines of _‘Shit, that was intense!’_ Beside him, the siblings joke around, his panic fading as he watches them through the scope. When he glances at T’Challa, he notices his sudden shift of panic on his face. The man quickly drawing his gun aiming at the house the Humvee crashed into. 

_“Shuri, watch out!”_

A runner bursts out of the rubble, blowing past the sibling erratic figure nearly biting the kid before getting filled with led from his gun. Two clickers follow, one slamming into Shuri as she falls to the ground gun falling out of her hands. Her brother yells, fighting off one himself until Tony kills the clicker. Blood splatters, her brother running over and yanking Shuri off the ground checking her over. Peter doesn’t move, looking around as he points his gun at more infected coming at them.

Finally, the infected came out of their hiding places. The mess of guns and explosives drawing any freaks right to them. Using his sniper to his advantage, Tony tries to draw as many clickers away while almost getting rid of the small cluster. However, much to his distress, a large onslaught of clickers and runners come hobbling down the street. Cursing he puts the gun down, watching in horror as the hordes of freaks sprint down in a hungry frenzy.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Running down the stairs, he meets the rest of the group breathing heavily with panic expressions. Together, they watch the infected pound against the boarded house, snarls, and growls echoing inside. Even if they can’t get inside, it doesn't mean it eases his own panic.

"You're ok!" Peter exclaims relived.

“Still here," He sighs, glancing at the clickers pounding on the wood. "Anybody hurt?"

"All good," T'Challa huffs gun in hand, glancing at Shuri still a bit shocked.

“Alright, I think it's time we quit this place.”

Wasting no time, they sprint through the backdoor into the yard. Their panicked forms huddle around a fence, one by one slipping through a loose fence plank. Even once they clear the yard, they don't slow down their speed; minds focused on getting the hell to that radio tower. 

________

Luckily for the group, the trip to the radio tower was much calmer than the last two days. Even if it took them until the sun started setting, they were all happy to be far away from Hydra and their reckless control. Upon stumbling inside the building, it was quite obvious that no one from the siblings' group was inside. It was a few bittersweet moments as they searched around, both sobering up as they set up for the night into two large offices. 

When the sun did finally set, dinner a was made; an old blue pot filled with a mixture of beans and other vegetables simmering away as they ate. The night flows smoothly after that, small talk shared between most of the group as Shuri stares off into space. It was long after dinner that she disappears into the other room, the last few days taking a toll on her. The rest of the group stays in the main room, finishing the conversation they started over their meal.

Empty cans laid around, Tony settling against desk inhaling some more food. The kid sits on the opposite side of him, head resting on his shoulder brief until Peter grabbed more food. They don't common on their actions, letting the domesticity run its course and letting their guards down just a bit. Rambling on about old stories, T'Challa sits up from his spot eyes wide.

“Shut the hell up," The man says with a bit of amazement and jealousy.

“Dead serious," Tony replies with a mouth full of food. "It was Rhodey's birthday and all he wanted to do was rent two Harley's and just drive cross country.”

The memory lingers, just two best friends riding around for the day before stopping at Wanda’s to drink and play drunken rounds of pool and pinball.

_God, he missed his best friend, his brother._

_But does he miss him?_

“Ah man," He sighs. "I could die happy if I could just ride one around the block," He laughs giving him a look. "I'm officially jealous of your old man status.”

Tony laughs. "Good to know.”

“You gotta tell me, how was it?”

“It was good," He smiles at the memory. "Real good.”

T'Challa scoffs glancing at Peter. "Can you believe this guy? _Just good?_ I need the details man, describe it.”

"You know what," The kid laughs grabbing some extra snacks. "You two deserve a little privacy."

Tony tries to hide his disappointment, watching the kid leaves his side. 

"Peter, Peter," T'Challa says drawing the attention back to him. "This isn't just any regular motorcycle. You get on that bad boy, you feel that engine - _nothing like it."_

"Oh yeah?" The kid fake ponders. "How would you know?”

“I've seen it in my dreams.”

"Yeah no, I'm taking these snacks to Shuri now," The kid laughs once walking away into the next room.

Both men laugh, T’Challa falling somber for a second. He waits until Peter leaves the room, eyes shifting back to Tony. They grow dark, shoulders slumping.

“I don't think anyone from our group is gonna show up and I know we expected it but-”

“It's still hard to swallow.”

“Yeah..." He trails off. "And the worst part is watching Shuri losing more people. She tries not to show it but," He glances at the close door taking in her quiet demeanor at dinner. "It still affects her."

“It's what makes us human."

________

“Well," Peter comes through the door with some blueberries smiling. "It's safe to say those two have officially bonded.”

Shuri only hums at his comment, stacking cans of food into a small tower. She looks worn out, bronzy glow gone. Her yellow bomber jacket is ripped, buns a bit messy as she bites her lip nervously.

He tries to start a conversation again. “What ya doing?”

“Uh," She blinks out of her daze, eyes almost glaze over. "Taking stock of food and making a tower.”

“I see," Peter watches her carefully sensing something off. "I know we're good on blueberries but how are we on canned peaches?”

"Just peachy," She sighed taking the can back, a frown firmly placed on her face. "Did my brother send you?”

The question is accusatory, her dark eyes staring into his soul like he was enemy. 

He stops eating, brows furrowing as he studies his friend more closely now. “No, why would he send me? I just figured I stop by-”

“Either to see how I'm processing the whole ‘your group members are dead thing’ or just to make sure I'm not fucking up somehow.”

Peter’s brows furrow once more, growing worried about his friend.

_She was fine hours ago, what happened?_

“Pshhh," He tries to lighten the mood knowing it was a long ass day of running and close calls. He tries not to take her sour tone to heart trying to make her feel better. "I'd say we all did pretty good back there - especially you with your gun skills.”

Shuri brushes him off, lips were drawn in a tight line as she gets up from her table. She walks over to the window, moonlight shining in as she wraps her arms tightly around herself. This only makes him worry more.

“Everything alright?”

“Peachy," Her voice cracks, eyes glassy.

“Well, I-" He stops himself unsure what to say, unsure how to comfort her. "I guess have a good night.”

She stops him. "How come you're never scared?”

He shrugs scratching the back of his neck. "Who says I'm not?”

“Really then? Tell me, Parker, what are you scared of?”

_Being alone, not breathing, the darkness, losing everyone-_

“Spiders are pretty creepy," He jokes cringing once Shuri rolls her eyes. She huffs, turning back to her own world. "Ok, Ok," He begins growing serious. "Ending up by myself.” He swallows a lump in his throat, his parents, Ben, May, and Ned all lingering in his mind. Their lives cut short by an unforgiving world he wants to be rid of. He’s tired of losing people he loves, he’s tired of the world taking his happiness away. “I'm scared of ending up alone."

Shuri only studies him, eyes darken. Words sit on her lips, refusing to escape as the mental battle continues in her head. She spends the next few moments acting like she was trying to tell him something. Brain shutting her down before she could utter a word.

Peter tries to help her. "What about you?”

It takes her a few seconds until the words leave her. “Those things," Her eyes go glassy, hand trying to rub off the dry blood on her coat roughly. "Out there, the mere thought of those people before the infection still inside fighting for control." She pauses taking a heavy breath. "They could just be trapped within their body, losing a horrid battle as they morph into nothing but spores."

She pauses.

“I'm scared of that happening to me.”

“Okay," Peter nods moving forward to take her hand. "First of all, we're a team now. So we're gonna help each other out." He glances outside noticing the hobbling freaks. "And secondly, those things may still look like people but that person before isn't there anymore.”

“My brother says they 'moved on,' that they're with their families, like in heaven." Shuri stares at him with imploring eyes, desperate for an answer he was unsure he could give. "Do you think that's true?”

“I mean I-" He stops remembering the day years ago where his Aunt tried to ease his pain. How she tried to explain what those monsters were lurking outside and how they weren't the people they used to be. "I go back and forth. I want to believe it, to believe that people are somewhere away from this pain."

“But...You don't.”

“It's more complicated than that.”

_More like he curses the universe for taking everyone away from him._

_How he's jealous of people escaping the pain of this world._

“Yeah," She agrees, breaking eye contact. "It's complicated.”

Peter watches his friend for a few seconds, trying to figure out some way to cheer her up. His mind flickers back to the toy shop, eyes going wide when he remembers what he grabbed.

“Oh shit," He says fishing through his bag. "All this serious talk and I almost forgot.”

Carefully, he pulls out the lego X-Wing with R2D2 that caught her eye. He places it down on the table watching as she grabs it, a small smile tugging at her lip. 

“I knew you really wanted it and if your brother doesn't know about it, he can't take it away." Peter watches her run her fingers along the X-Wing in awe. "And speaking of Star Wars," He wiggles his eyebrows earning a quiet chuckle. "I have some comics in my bag I think you'll like. Just let me know."

“Thank..." She pauses sniffling a bit. "Thank you.”

“No problem," He replies, yawning as the last two days take a toll on him. He grabs his bad sheepishly smiling as he gestures back towards the door. "I love to stay up and chat but after these last few days, I'm pooped."

She doesn't reply just yet, eyes slowly shifting back to the window. Peter pauses at the door, turning around to do some cheesy finger guns.

"See you tomorrow, Shuri.”

“Yeah..." She says, her smile not staying long. "I'll see you...tomorrow.”

________

When morning hit, Tony was already up watching the sunrise thankful for a few hours of sleep. His body felt refreshed, no pounding headache forming from the lack of sleep. T'Challa takes on breakfast, cooking food that made his stomach growl. The two men don't talk much in the early hours, letting themselves enjoy not being on edge from Hunters. 

Glancing over, he still finds the kid buried in his sleep bag. The boy stirs slightly as the sunlight shined through the windowsill, hiding under the darkest a few moments longer. He stares down Peter fondly, chuckling at his messy curls and sleepy face that made him look so much younger, so innocent. He then glances upward, eyes staring at the office Shuri never came out of. She locked herself away, shooing her brother's worries with a door slam. T'Challa only told them to give her space, to let the poor girl mourn her friends by herself. 

Before he can dwell on her much longer, Peter finally stirs from his slumber; yawning cutely as Tony laughs. The boy blinks a few times, brushing the mess of his curls away from his drooping eyes.

“Damn that smells good," Were the first words out of his mouth moments later, sluggishly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning," He laughs, fond smile still on lips

“Where's" Pete looks around, sobering up from his sluggish movements. "Shuri?"

Her brother looks up. "I let her sleep in for once, she needed it.”

The kid looks almost disappointed. “ _Oh._..alright.”

Her brother smirks. "If you want her to join us, you can go wake her ass up. Fair warning, she's not an early riser.”

“Okay," He laughs heading back to the other room more awake than ever.

Chuckling at the kid's actions, Tony yawns to himself; stretching his sore back muscles. He cracks a few joints, body already wishing for a large pot of steaming black coffee. It has been months since he had a cup, taste buds already begging for another. Deep down, he knows that coffee was the least of his worries but that damn cup did wonders for his body. He was a different man when he had some, a whole new person. But nevertheless, he was left with water and an unsatisfied pallet. 

He lingers by the pot of food once more, smelling the delicious food trying to let his friend cook in peace. The last thing the man needed was him claiming how hungry he was for the fiftieth time this morning. So instead, he went back to bird watching; taking in the rather peaceful morning he's had in a while.

Suddenly, the peace is shattered; Peter’s voice breaking through the bliss. _“SHURI?!”_

Erratic growls echo in, both men jumping into action leaving the food to burn.

“What the-”

The office door bursts open, Peter hitting the ground as Shuri pins him down. Her body twists in an inhuman way, guttural rasps filling the room. Tony stands their shock, eyes watching in horror as he takes in the sight of spores and veins blooming all over the poor girl's face. 

_She’s infected._

_Fuck._

Her body jerks erratically, runner instincts sending her into a hunger-induced frenzy. The person she once was, fades away with each second; her bronze glow drained of any light. The whites of her eyes take over her piercing dark brown color; infection sprouting all over. Shuri lunges forward, trying with all her might to bit into Peter. The kid yells out in a tearful panic, watching his friend die before his very eyes. 

“She’s turning!” He exclaims, scrambling to grab his gun.

As the room erupts in panic, Tony latches onto his gun pointing it towards Shuri. His finger barely touches the trigger before a shot rings out, a bullet embedding itself right between his legs. His gaze darts upward, landing on a rather panicked T'Challa.

He points the gun at him, emotional; the barrel still smoking. "That's my fucking sister!”

_“Shuri!"_ Peter tries to reason with his friend, still fighting off her attacks.

Tony watches the girl almost take a chuck out of the kid's neck, panic coursing through him. "Screw it," He mutters already reaching for his gun once more. 

A gunshot stops him in his place, the erratic rasps of newly infected coming to a halt. His eyes discover a new sight just as worst as before; Peter breathing heavily as blood splatters across his face. Blood pulls on his shirt, Shuri's body lulling forward before slumping to the floor. Her brother doesn't move from his stop, body trembling as he watches his sister's body spasm on the floor. Blood pools out of her, staining the carpet a bright crimson. The kid only stares in horror, tears freely falling as back through the mess of red.

_“S-Shit.”_

Tony rushes over to the blood-covered kid. " _Peter?"_ He tries his hardest to wipe the blood off his cheek, hands cupping his tear-stained face. "Pete, are you alright?”

Tears fill his eyes once more, lip wobbling as he only gets out. "Uh-Huh.”

“ _Oh my God_ ," A broken voice comes from T'Challa. "S-Shuri?" They glance at the man barely holding it together, tears freely streaming down his face. "No, _N-No...Shuri?”_

He keeps asking, sad eyes looking at his gun as it hits him that his sister is gone. Ugly sobs erupt as the realization washes over him, the guilt of him killing her creeping in. Hopelessly he stares at the gun, body trembling.

“T'Challa," Tony tries slowly walking up to his friend. He knows too well how this feels, how the guilt eats at a person. "Listen to-”

“T'Challa," He sobs, gun a little to close to his face. "What have you done?”

Tony puts his hands up. "Hey, I'm gonna get that gun from you okay? Let's just-”

“Sh...Sh...Shuri," He sobs turning the gun back onto Tony.

“Whoa. Okay, okay, okay-”

"It's y-your fault," His voice cracks.

_He should have shot that clicker before-_

He shakes the thought away.

He swallows a lump in his throat, growing a bit emotional himself. "This is nobody's fault, _nobody's.”_

The gun is still on him, hands shaking. “It’s all your fault!”

“T'Challa," He pleads. "T'Challa no-”

A gunshot cuts him off.

There’s a flash, an echoing sound as his friend’s body drops to the floor. He stares, body shaking T’Challa once full of life slumps, head falling to the side as blood pools.

A deafening silence lingers, an image engraved into their minds.

“Oh my God-" Peter's emotional voice cuts through.

T’Challa’s last words linger.

_It’s all your fault._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP 😔


	15. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jackson County," Peter says next to him, hair matted by the rainfall. The kid then gestures to a decaying sign, hidden by overgrown bushes. "Means we're close to Jackson City right?”
> 
> “Should be more than a few miles," He sighs, wiping his now fully grown beard damp from rainfall.
> 
> He turns to the kid, watching the boy shivering as he finally zips up the black and red windbreaker he’d been bugging him to do for the last few miles. Tony bites his tongue with a smirk, holding back a comment as he himself fixes the heavy flannel he stole off of some manikin. The rain continues to slightly pour, heavier drops sliding off the leaves onto their heads. Thunder booms in the distance, tired mind thinking of the last month and a half they spent traveling here. 
> 
> After the siblings-
> 
> _It’s all your fault._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of death, guns, and alcohol/drugs

**_Endure and Survive._ **

**_FALL_ **

_... _

Rain falls from grey skies, a gentle chilly breeze swaying the mass of maple and oak trees. Wyoming mountains loom over the treetops in distance, snowy tops contrasted with the mostly green pines. Mixing in with the evergreen hues, the other trees slowly started the process of browning: colors shifting from purples, reds, and oranges. The growing cliff sides form in an upward slope, mossy rocks and roads overgrown with other plant life. 

Another gust of wind goes by, stronger and much more chiller than before. The gust causes the rain to smack against him, the icy drops falling onto his cold face.

_ God, he hated rain. _

“Jackson County," Peter says next to him, hair matted by the rainfall. The kid then gestures to a decaying sign, hidden by overgrown bushes. "Means we're close to Jackson City right?”

“Should be more than a few miles," He sighs, wiping his now fully grown beard damp from rainfall.

He turns to the kid, watching the boy shivering as he finally zips up the black and red windbreaker he’d been bugging him to do for the last few miles. Tony bites his tongue with a smirk, holding back a comment as he himself fixes the heavy flannel he stole off of some manikin. The rain continues to slightly pour, heavier drops sliding off the leaves onto their heads. Thunder booms in the distance, tired mind thinking of the last month and a half they spent traveling here. 

After the siblings-

_ It’s all your fault. _

After escaping the hellscape that was Pittsburgh and the surrounding area, they were once again on their own. The siblings, in the end, weren't destined to make it out. He has to live with the what-ifs forever, wondering if he could have spotted that clicker before it tackled Shuri. 

_ Before it bit her... _

_ Before it sealed their faiths. _

Traveling as a pair, especially once the seasons shift, brought new challenges. Their summer clothes were not cutting it as they made their way through colder and forested areas. All took was one dreaded night of freezing their asses for Tony to drag the kid slightly off course for better gear. And since they lost the car they nearly died for, the pair was left walking for miles trying to not to lose their heads from rival groups. 

Surprisingly enough, most of the cars nowadays were rusted pieces of metal; scraps left to rot with no use. The city still had a lasting effect even miles away; its hellhole making their journey across states much longer than it needed to be.

But what really added to his overall stress level was finding out midway through their trip, that Nat and Steve were actually short on inhulers. Especially once he  _ also _ found out that the kid knew this crucial information. That was a bitter fight he didn't want to remember, a new sudden realization dawning on him. 

_ He's shitty at protecting people, taking care of the people he cares for. _

First, it was Pepper and their baby; blood still caking broken watch. Rhodey was the next one to go, his own demons pushing away the man who was there in his darkest times. Brothers forever broken by this world. Maria was another numbing failure, her untimely demise due to his poor reaction skills. She died at the hands of soldiers, opting-out of turning into those freaks. Then it was siblings, their tragic fates replaying in his mind. 

He saw that clicker surge at Shuri, tackle her to ground. He had shot and was a millisecond too late, teeth marks embedded into her leg. T'Challa was a man filled with grief, no words able to break through those emotions. 

_ It's all your fault. _

Peter was next, deep down he knew it. This trip to Rhodey's, this journey he was thrusted into was a much needed wake-up call. Their fight about the inhaulers shifted his mind elsewhere, enough self-doubt to make a conclusion. 

_ They needed to part ways.  _

_ If he was alone, he couldn't hurt any more people. _

Peter had a better chance with Rhodey, _not him._ No matter how much his selfish feelings wanted to keep the kid with him, he knew what was at stake.

He knew this during their detour to find a way to use the "extra" supplies for his inhauler, internal crisis looming over him as they search about for a pharmacy. Tony's decision only became clearer as they approached the decaying building, carrying the poor boy before he had another asthma attack.

_He had to let him go, to protect his kid._

That promise carried him on for miles, parental instants taking over as he began hoarding supplies like a mother with their first child. All he needed was to get the kid to Rhodey's, make sure he doesn't die on his watch. 

_Peter was the cure, the world needed him._

_And yet he needed him the most._

"You ready to see dear, old brother," Peter asks, walking next to him up the inclining dirt road unaware of his small self-loathing daze.

"I'm just ready to get there," He muttered watching the kid jump in a small puddle with his boots.

_ Stop making this much harder. _

“Are you nervous?”

They follow old power lines for a lit, silence lingering. 

_ Yes. _

“I don't know what I'm feeling.”

_ I don’t know how to face Rhodey, how to leave- _

He pushes the thoughts away, taking in the scenery to distract him from the growing guilt. 

The kid whistles marveling at the mountains. "Books really don't do these sights any justice.”

He glances over. "I guess they don't.”

“Hate to say it but the one thing I miss about the zone was the SHIELD Library, that place always managed to have something.”

“You really like to read huh?”

“Anything I could get my hands on.”

“Well after all this," He gestures in the air, making a promise he doesn't know how to keep. "We can make you something much better than SHIELD's collection.”

The kid lights up. "Really?”

“Really," He smiles.

_ Infected be damn, he might just raid a whole library.  _

“Even Harry Potter?" Peter asked sheepishly, turning away. "Maria, made them sound pretty good.”

Tony blinks, almost stopping at the thought of Maria. The kid turns, eyes growing guilty as he stutters out an apology. 

“S-Sorry, I know you don't want to-”

“It wouldn't be a library without them, Maria would haunt our asses until we found them.”

The kid laughs growing somber. "I miss her.”

“Me too, me too.”

_ Every single day.  _

They keep walking, a small dirt road coming to a halt as the cliffside appears fallen into the river below. A bridge was only a few feet away, the river basically laughing at them for having to follow it to get to Rhodey’s. Although he personally hasn’t been there since -- _God knows how many years_. All he knew was from one letter he saved that Maria got. Something about new advancements made and more importantly that river should lead them there.

Carefully, they navigate down the cliffside as Peter starts up another conversation bringing more bittersweet memories to the forefront. 

“So what happened between you two?”

_ A whole lot of things… _

“What do you mean?” He asked clearly aware of what the kid was hinting at.

“You and Rhodey…” The kid trails off. “You're not together, so clearly something went down.”

_ You could say that… _

“We uh," He stopped unsure and not ready to explain how exactly they parted ways. It was his fault mostly, something he's been great at doing. "It was just a bit of a disagreement, that's all.”

“Enough for him to move all the way out here while you stay in the Zone?”

"He wasn't so fond of the Zone.”

“Neither were you.”

_ Damn observant kid.  _

“Rhodey saw the world one way. I saw it the other way.”

"And that's why he joined the Avengers?"

“Yeah," He tries to hide the bitterness in his tone. "Your friends Nat and Steve promised him hope." He hops off the last cliff to the flat part next to the river. The bridge loomed overhead rusted paint peeling off. "It kept him busy for a while and eventually he quit that too.”

The kid not sensing his tone presses more. "How was it, the last time you saw him?”

_ Utter and complete chaos. _

“Uh well," He turns to the kid, Peter giving him a look to not bullshit him right now. Might as well rip the bandage off before they arrive. "I believe his last words to me were, 'I don't ever want to see your Goddamn face again.’”

That was after another drunken binged after he blamed his friend, his brother, for Pepper’s death. It wasn’t his finest hour, the broken pieces of himself shattering as the stress of the world weighed down on him didn’t mix great with alcohol.

“Jeez." The kid exclaims. "Is he going to help us?”

“Hopefully..."

“Well," Peter adjusted his backpack straps. "With or without his help, we'll get there.

“Yeah...”

They continue on the riverside as the rain lightens, a mist filling the air as they walk over a cluster of bluebells swaying in the wind. Once they scale over a tiny waterfall, a familiar landmark comes into view.

“Whoa, what's that?”

“That right there is a hydroelectric power plant.”

“A.... hydro what now?”

“It uses the river's movement and turns it into electricity.”

He remembers an old meeting Pepper dragged him to, something about funding they were trying to get for a plant like this to give rural areas better access to electricity. It was only a week later that she died in his arms.

Reaching the rusted stairs of the plant, they move upward past the stained walls covered in barbed wire and vines. Water rushes beside them, a cooler mist coming off as it gathers in the dam. 

Peter looks at the building, brows furrowing. "How does it do that?”

Tony forgets that the kid probably didn’t have much access to electricity and God, he misses it so much. Especially the internet and the never-ending gifts that everyone took for granted. 

“Well, it basically captures the falling water to generate electricity." He explains as the kid follows. "Then a turbine converts the kinetic energy of falling water into mechanical energy. Then a generator converts the mechanical energy from the turbine into electrical energy.”

“Damn, you know-" The kid stops once Tony halts eyes looking at the large man-made waterfall blocking their path with gusting water. "Huh, no pallets to cross that."

Tony looks at the red circle lever, hands latching on to turn the rusted thing. "Oh darn, and here I thought we were going for a swim.”

“Thank God."

“You know we really need to teach you to swim.”

“Not in these cold ass waters.”

Rolling his eyes, he turns the crumbling lever, watching as the metal grate blocking the flow of the water turns upward. Once it’s in place, he curses noticing the other half didn’t move.

“Halfway there," Peter shrugs fumbling with his fingers knowing he couldn't be much help.

“Give me a few minutes," Tony says before turning back and pointing to the kid. "And by no means jump into the water again."

“Trust me, my ass is staying dry.”

He scoffs, throwing his pack to the kid before hopping over the fence to the edge where the concrete meets the water. Hopping in, he curses at the coldness of the water before his eyes landed on a pallet floating towards him. He laughs swimming towards the wood.

“Oh, Parker!" He calls out fetching the pallet and swimming over to the edge. "Looks you need to-”

"I know," The kid huffs staring at him with a scowl. "Step on the fucking pallet."

“Grouchy today aren't we?” He laughs.

“It’s freezing water, Tony."

“And? My ass is fully in it."

“Just-" The moody teen hops on the pallet. "Just push me to the other lever.”

It’s a short swim, Tony pushing the pallet over allowing the kid to pull himself up the tall ledge he couldn’t reach. Peter once upon the platform, tugs the other lever as the other grate creates a walkable bridge as he swims over to the other side. Once out of the water, he could only smirk as he dramatically crossed the bridge taking his good old time. 

“Man if only you could walk across this.”

The kid rolls his eyes. "Oh haha." He watches Tony finally cross, holding up a hand for a high five. "Teamwork, now take your heavy bag.”

Tony does go for a high-five, hand missing as the kid pulls it away smirking before tossing his bag. He walks away laughing. "Too slow old man!”

"Hey!" He gasps. "I'm middle-aged at best!"

This only makes the kid laugh harder until his eyes catch something. The laughter stops, Peter’s face falling. Tony stops as well, trying to follow the kid’s gaze watching as he jumps off the platform into a grassy area. He struggles to find what exactly the kid looked upset about only really seeing the remains of an abandoned campsite with an old campfire and hole-riddled tent. 

When he does finally see it, his heart stops. 

A small mound of dirt stuck out, a cross made from sticks sprouting up from the ground. He stumbles over before he can even process it, the sheer size of the grave making his heart hurt. Closer, he notices a child’s plush cat, fake fur matted from the rain and mud. This was a grave of a small child, a child who didn’t make it. 

Images of Pepper’s grave flash: him and Rhodey painstakingly carrying her body somewhat closer to her favorite spot, Wanda’s. He clearly sees the scene, how he held onto his wife’s body watching as his friend mostly dug a grave. Chaos ensued around him, fires raging in the distance as freaks ran about. The only reason he ever let go was when the infected started creeping near the bar again.

His wife was buried under rocks and dirt in an unmarked grave with a child he never even met.

_ The grave was too damn small. _

When he joins Peter, his gaze shifts from the grave watching as the kid plays with the X-Wing he nabbed back at the toy shop.

“I forgot to leave this stupid toy on her grave," He sighs. "The one thing she liked and I-”

_ It’s all your fault. _

Tony's mind lingers back on them burying the siblings' bodies, cementing his choice of parting ways. He and the kid buried their bodies at the radio tower, a task no kid should ever have to do.

_ He just keeps traumatizing him. _

“Pete-”

“What?" The kid snaps back. "I want to talk about it.”

“Let's just-”

“Why not?” 

“How many times do I-" He checks himself real quick, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, in this world things happen and eight times out of ten they're real shitty. But they happen and we can't change that. We just have to move on.”

Peter turns to him, eyes glassy. “But we shouldn't just forget them.”

_ Sometimes it’s easier too. _

“Come on, let's get a move on.”

________

Somehow, he managed to pull the kid away from the grave. The X-Wing returned to his bag, a silence lingered between them as they scaled more rusted stairs. It takes another few moments of lame jokes, but Tony is able to get Peter to crack a smile as he shifts the conversation towards the checklist the kid had of sodas and other junk food he wanted to try. The laughter and ease return, both of them perking up from that somber sight.

When they're back on grass and mud, they stumble upon a construction area littered with old equipment. The grass cuts off, muddy tires tracks looking somewhat fresh leading into the large gateway looming before them. Together, they search the grounds before opening the gate, both glancing around a small room-like building scattered with old blueprints and the power plant map. 

Tony manages to snag another gun, a smirk tugging at his lips as he examines the long-barrel revolver with a scope. His fingers brush the mud off, running over the inscribing labeling the gun “El Diablo.” He pockets the gun, switching it out with his shorty to give to the kid.

_ Might as well give him another form of protection.  _

Just as Peter took the gun, the kid was off hoarding more nail bits for his bombs with a devilish smirk. Messing with the kid’s curls, he laughs returning back outside and walking up to the gate. He studies it, hands touching the rusted metal handle barely allowing the door to move as he tugged. Something like a chain rattles behind, the large gate not opening anything soon. He tries one more time, shaking the door with a loud sigh.

To the side and above, he hears the cocking of guns as voices linger. A man and a woman whisper on his left, another woman coming from his right just as the kid gasps. Tony’s gaze shifts from the door, catching Peter whipping out his gun and pointing it upward. 

A woman’s voice finally snaps his head upward. “Don’t even think about reaching for your weapon.”

His hand stopped midway, eyes wide as he stared at a sniper aimed right at them. The woman holding the gun glares at them through light brown eyes, an angry scowl resting on her face as the wind blows her wet short blonde into her eyes. Raindrops fall off her black leather jacket, hands showing no signs of shaking. She doesn’t even budge, flicking her wet hair back focusing the gun right on them. She meant business and wasn’t going for any of their bullshit. 

The kid, clearly not listening or watching any social cues, still points the damn pistol at the woman. Tony now raising his hands, shifts mouthing to the kid to drop the stupid gun like he was dog latching onto something it shouldn’t have. Peter only glares back getting much bolder with his gun.

“Tell the boy to drop his. Now," The woman snaps pointing her gun at the kid, finger a little too close to the trigger for his liking.

Tony snaps this time, reaching back to snag the gun down. “Peter, do what the lady says.”

The kid raises his brows. “Are you-”

“Peter Parker,” He hisses.

Somehow the teen listens, huffing before holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine.”

The woman never dropped her sniper, shifting back over to Tony as the main target. “You better be lost,” She says, eyes narrowing as her glares practically send daggers at them. 

He almost sees Maria in her actions, the stern and no bullshit attitude that cause the strongest of men recoil. He almost laughs at the idea of his friend’s bitter comments towards this woman. Maria Hill was never a woman who backed down. 

_ God, he misses her. _

“We didn't know the place was occupied," He starts trying to diffuse the tension. "We're trying to make our way through.”

“Through to where?" She snaps back.

A male's voice cuts in, a familiar one too. "They're alright.”

Tony’s gaze shifts from the woman to the opening gate, a man stands on the other side but just enough out of view. He could only see the man’s heavy jean jacket and dirty jeans as his brows furrowed.

“You know these people?”

The man moves forward, face finally coming into view. “I know _ him _ .”

His eyes go wide, all his weight shifting on the back of heels as he almost stumbles backward. His mouth goes dry, heart pounding in his chest.

_ Rhodey. _

His gaze lingers, heart still thumping loudly in his chest as the blood rushes to his ears. He swallows a lump, mind trying to prepare him before his friend ripped him a new one. Last time they talked, his friend, brother, told him to never show his face around him again. And yet, years later the same man only a little older stands there smiling with the same glimmer of life he’s had since they met in college. 

“He’s my Goddamn brother,” His friend smiles more moving forward.

“Rhodey-”

“Holy shit.”

Tony expects something else, mind completely caught off guard as his best friend instantly goes for a tight hug. He laughs out loud from the shock, nearly crying as he tightly wraps his arms around the man.

_ God, he missed his brother. _

_ So fucking much. _

“How you doin’, platypus?” 

His friend laughs, both hugging - _no, latching onto each other for dear life._ Inaudible whispers come from both men, mostly curses, sentences unable to be formed. Two brothers were finally reunited, years of long-distance finally gone. Maybe after all they just needed to do some growing, some reflecting.

“Let me look at you," Rhodey says firmly, placing his hands on his shoulders, breaking the hug.

He stares at his friend fully, practically unchanged except for a few new wrinkles and a growing beard with grey hairs. Two people appear from behind the gate, the blonde-haired woman and a new one trailing behind.

“No goatee?” Rhodey questions with a smirk. “And grey hairs? Damn man, you got fucking old.” 

“Easy there, you're still older than me.”

“And I barely aged.”

Both men laughed as nothing had changed before Rhodey turned to both women and gestured forward. The blonde woman still sports her sniper, now strapped to her back as this other woman only offers a small nod. She stands next to her friend, long black hair tied up in multiple braids. Her light brown skin contrasting with her stern dark brown eyes that checked both of them out. The woman had her arms crossed against her chest, navy blue tank top peeking out behind her black jean jacket with a few rips fixed with fabric patches. 

“This is Carol and Valkyrie," Rhodey gestures. "Be nice to them, they sorta run things around here.”

“Valkyrie?" The kid asks from behind.

She laughs, stern look slightly fading. "Air Force nickname, it just fits.”

“Well," Tony starts. "Thanks for not blowing our head off.”

“You should be thanking my wife," She adds leaning on Carol's shoulder. "She was pretty close.”

“Would've been embarrassing," Carol starts now at ease. "Considering your Rhodey's brother." She turns to the kid with a warm smile. "Peter right?”

“Yeah.”

“What brings you here?”

Peter looks at Tony making a face. "Uh...It's kind of a long story.”

_ A long, long, long story.  _

Rhodey eyes the kid then Tony, raising his brow with a warm smile. “Why don’t we bring them inside?”

“Yeah," Valkyrie nods looking at the kid. "You hungry?"

“You have no idea," He sighs.

“Careful now," Tony adds. “He has a bottomless pit in his stomach.”

His brother laughs, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as they walk inside and closing the gate behind the group. From there, he was able to take in the whole plant and the makeshift camp that Rhodey’s group seem to set up for themselves. 

Electrical wires connected overhead, the mountains still looming over them like a giant. The whole plant was surrounded by a sturdy wall, barbed wire lining the tops to keep back invaders. Four watchtowers cover the four corners, people lingering throughout the connected landings gazing into the dense forest.

“False alarm!” Carol calls waving off her guys. “They’re friendlies!”

Tony glances around some more, gazing upon the worn pathways and other heavy crates littered about. Up ahead stood the tall buildings of the actual plant, the forest Wyoming scene just peeking over the wall. He stares at the mountain once more, some sunlight peeking out between the peak.

_ He wouldn’t mind waking up to a sight like this every morning. _

Valkyrie draws his attention once more. “We’ve been dealing with raids. Lots of bandits in this area.”

“It’s been quiet for a few days,” Rhodey adds with a sigh, rolling his sore shoulder before glancing back. He glances to the kid with furrowed brows, eyes giving him a silent  _ look _ . “Don’t get me wrong Tones, I’m happy to see you but what hell are you doing here?”

“Long story,” He shrugs, not trusting the number of people around them. “I should be asking why the hell you're here. I thought I would find you in Jackson.”

They walk along the path, passing a few workers chilling on a crate eating something they probably caught outside the wall. Other workers pushed barrels to the corners, piles lining next to old car scraps. 

“Long story,” His friend jokes nodding to the workers eating. “We’ve been trying to bring the plant back to life.”

Carol chimes in this time. “We had it working before but one of the turbines went south.”

Rhody turned to him with a giddy smile that reminded him of his lab days at MIT. “We have electricity, Tones...well had. We’ll get it running again.”

He goes to make a comment, only to be cut off by the kid’s excited gasp. His gaze shifted, laughing at the excitement pouring off the kid.

“No way!” Peter stops in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers. “You guys have horses!

Just a few feet ahead, two horses stand to the side being attended by two other people. Rhodey smiles at the kid’s actions as well only glancing over to Tony with a fond look. Before his friend can get a word out, he’s suddenly called over for some assistance. He tells the group to go ahead, jogging over to the men struggling with a saddle and other supplies. Peter barely notices, still giddy as he gestures to the horses.

“Can I?” The kid glances at Tony than to both women for permission. 

“Yeah, of course,” Valkyrie laughs, ruffling the kid’s hair before bringing him over to the all-white horse. The sun makes the white coat shine, the animal almost becoming a unicorn or pegasus. She guides Peter to the horse, placing his hand onto his ears. “He likes when you pet his ears.” 

“Amazing,” The kid marvels as he pets the horse.

“Have you ever ridden one before?”

“I actually have.”

Tony’s brow furrow. “Since when have you ridden horse?”

“Toomes,” Peter starts growing slightly distracted as the horse nuzzles with him. “He was some soldier back in the zone who gave me lessons.”

“ _ You _ managed to convince a soldier to give you lessons?” He asks, impressed, and surprised.

“It was mostly because of his daughter Liz, kindness goes a long way,”

“You know,” Carol nudged her wife with a smirk. “We can go riding later and see how good those lessons were.”

“That’d be awesome,” The kid gushes excitedly. 

A few moments pass of Peter now petting both horses with childlike awe. Tony goes to push him about the Liz topic to tease him only to be beaten by both women. The kid blushes, slight embarrassment creeping up his face as he tries to change the subject. It was only after a few more minutes of prodding that he finally gave in.

“I may have given her flowers on her birthday to woo her,” The teen mutters as the group chuckles. “And obviously once her soldier dad found out, he tried to bribe me with free lessons.”

“Kindness huh?”

“Hey,” Peter scowls at Tony. “Usually I would have said no but she actually had a soldier boyfriend anyway.”

“Ouch,” Carol pats his shoulder hiding a smile. “Did you still keep in touch?”

He makes a face, scratching the back of his neck. “At first, but then…” He trails off watching all three of them egg him to go on. “Her dad sorta got in trouble for stealing supplies from his military pals.”

Tony scoffs. “Supplies really? All military personnel always hoarded-”

“More like guns and ammo to overthrow his superior.”

“Oh no,” Valkyrie makes a face. “Let me guess they kicked him out of the zone?”

“Yeah,” He nods. “Liz moved with her mom to be near her boyfriend by checkpoint ten and we fell out of touch.”

An awkward silence lingers, the horses filling the void before Carol chimes in once more. “Well loverboy,” She tries to joke her way through the awkward. “Meet anyone else?"

Peter’s blush pales, eyes growing sad for a brief second. “Uh, sort of.” He stops pushing a fake smile that only Tony knew. “Didn’t really work out between me and him.”

“Another soldier kid?”

“No, no…” The fakeness looks forced and a bit troubling for Tony. “He just went his own way. I went another way.”

_ He had a feeling it wasn’t just that simple. _

“Well cheer up kid, there's plenty of people out there.”

“Yeah.”

Finally, Rhodey returns from his task drawing the attention of both women as Tony was able to see the kid take a shaky breath before sobering up. He doesn’t say a word just yet, only giving the kid a comforting squeeze on the back of his neck. His brother mentions something about heading to the main building as they walk away from the horses.

As they approached the building with broken window panes, he watched Carol cock her head to the side-eyeing the woman decked out in mostly all green sharpening a blade. The woman in question looks up only offering a sly smirk. 

“Danvers.”

“Gamora?” She walks up to the woman. “Why are you still here? Weren’t you supposed to head back this morning?”

“Still waiting on Quill and the rest of the gang to get back. They’re fixing the tribune I believe.”

“Hope they don’t take too long.”

“Have you met my friends? She scoffs. "The only person keeping them in line is my sister and she's on a supply run.”

Carol makes a face, "Well hopefully they won't be much longer."

That only earns a laugh from Gamora as she gestures them away as they trek up a set of stairs. The grey skies began to get darker again, a small drizzle coming down as they entered inside the building. Only a few feet inside, Valkyrie’s walkie talkie goes off.

_ “Hey, Valkyrie?” _

“Yeah, Quill?”

_ “We're in the control room. Rocket is about to start it back up. Do you want to come check it out with Carol?” _

Tony stares at Rhodey, mouthing _‘Rocket’_ with an emphasis. His brother only shrugs returning with a whispered _‘long story._ ’ He laughs a bit, giving him another look as his friend cracks a smile. If his friend didn’t think he would comment on these names he was dead wrong.

Amid their mini conversation, Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed at both men with a sigh. “I rather eat with the kid.”

Her wife follows with a sigh as well. “Rhodey you down-”

He puts a hand up stopping her. "It's my turn anyway, you guys spent hours there the last time.”

“I'll come with you," Tony butts in as the kid gives him a look. He feels slightly guilty, fully knowing why he needed to talk to his friend alone. "Go with them and put some food in you.”

“Tony what-”

Carol cuts the kid off, sensing a bit of urgency coming from Tony. “C’mon Peter, let’s give the boys some space. It’s been a while since they had a chat.”

Her wife finally responds to Quill. “I’m sending Rhodey over.”

A few moments linger, the kid reluctantly following both women out. His friend then leads him to another door to another room that roughly resembles a warehouse. Bunk beds line the far walls, one man snoring away on the lumpy mattress. Bags sit on other crates pushed to the sides, the room mostly empty after that. 

Rhodey starts up a conversation. “This will be the sixth time of them trying to get the turbines back online.” He huffs walking towards the beds. “Man, do I miss the days where you could just order parts online.”

“I mean I just miss the internet in general.”

“Won’t disagree with you there,” He laughs continuing his conversation. “We’ve been here just a week and it seems like forever,” This time his friend sighs, coming to a halt at a bag sitting right by the bags. “I got something for you.”

Tony’s brows furrow watching as his friend fishes through his bag.

“Last year I went back to New York,” His brother glances over already calming Tony’s nerves. “Definitely not the inner city or the zone, I went back home - our homes.”

A lump grows in his throat, mind lingering back to the bittersweet memories he has there. After the New York zone went to shit, they traveled to Boston leaving the city far behind. Truth be told, he hasn’t been back there in almost twenty years. He could never go back, there were too many memories to face. 

“Most of our stuff was long, well most of it.” Rhodey stops, hand holding a picture as he turns to hand it to him. “Here.”

Tony takes the photo, eyes almost welling up with tears. He stares, mouth going dry as the rest of the world drowns out. His gaze doesn’t break, hands shaking as he stares at the slightly faded photo of a younger him and Pepper. The photo was the two of them in Wanda’s Bar moments after he proposed to her. It was New Years, both of them slightly tipsy but still crying tears of joy. He was a nervous wreck for weeks leading up this, late-night phone calls to Rhodey losing his mind.

His heart almost breaks the more he stares and remembers.

That photo was the first thing they hung in their new house, just out of the city but close enough for work. It was supposed to be their forever home, everything they needed to grow a family they both wanted. And he almost had that, until the infected ravaged the world that killed his wife.

Rhodey cuts through the haze. “It’s a little faded but still looks pretty good.”

Tony swallows the lump in his throat, closing his eyes for a few seconds trying to compose himself. He studies the image one more time, handing it back to his friend with a shaky hand. He couldn’t keep this photo, it just fuels the guilt. Sure he could look at the ultrasound but Pepper? Her smiling face is something he didn’t deserve to carry.

“I'm good.”

“You sure? I mean…”

“I'm good," He barely gets out.

Okay," Rhodey nods, putting it away. "I'll hold onto it for you." His friend gives him another look, pausing briefly. "So that kid is he-"

His eyes bug out for a second. "No, no." He regains some composure. "It's just complicated.”

His brother laughs at that. "Well, not so complicated for Maria to let you come here alone.”

Tony’s face falls, Rhodey staring at him as his own face falls in shock. Their gazes linger for a second, his friend finally finding some words.

“Is she-”

_ Bitten. Infected. Shot. Dead. _

“Yes,” His voice cracks.

“How?” His brother grows emotional, Maria was one of his friends too.

“Uh," He struggles to get past the lump in his throat. "We were on our way to the capitol building, got separated when a runner managed to get a good bite." He pauses watching his friend nodding solemnly. "Hill being Hill didn't tell us at first only when the military from the zone had us cornered.”

Understanding, his brother composed himself. "You kill those asshats?”

“The runner and those idiots.”

“Good.”

He steadies himself, guilty gaze looking to the door where he just came from. He felt like he was betraying the trust of the kid but Maria’s last wish as well.

“Rhodey I-” He stops mind trying to get back on track. He had so much to say, too much to do. “I need to talk to you privately.”

Rhodes brows furrow this time. "Yeah okay...Let me just check on my guys real quick.”

He nods without a word, following him up a set of stairs and onto the rooftop. A few people work about, forest view just as breathtaking.

His friend tries to lighten the mood. "I don't know what you heard, but you should see the town," He looks proud as he walks. "We're over twenty families strong now."

The water from the river rushes into the damn, heavy stream creating the power they were trying to get back. 

“It was Valkyrie and Carol at first. They got the place set up with the idea of being self-sustained. We got crops and livestock." He turns back to Tony. "Remember how we thought no one could live like this anymore? Well, we're doing it.”

They pass by a group working on another busted area of the plant, some man off in the distance jamming to 80s music as another beefer man just shoves him playfully. Tony then gawks at the extremely tall man, feeling much shorter than he thought he was. They press forward, as he wonders where the hell did Rhodey pick up these people.

“So, what do you do for protection?”

“The adults take turns guarding the perimeter. We even got an electrified fence when the plant's up.”

“Still have to deal with the infected though right?”

“Who doesn't," Rhodey laughs. "After all, it's the world we live in.”

“Well maybe," He thinks back to Peter. "You don't have to be.”

“And now you sound like Nat and Steve.”

He awkwardly laughs, eyes catching a Golden Retriever laying in its own little house playing a bone. The dog perks up at the sight of them, tail wagging as it runs up to his brother than him with a dopey grin. Tony laughs, petting the cute dog already knowing Peter was going to get a kick out of this.

“His name is Lucky,” Rhodey says. “Not much of a guard dog but a good cuddler.”

“Good boy,” He coos, letting the cute pup go back to chewing on its bone.

They went back inside the plant after a few feet, entering what looked like the control room. A hairy bearded man with greasy hair stands at the center table, scanning through blueprints of the plant.

“And this is one,” His brother gestures. “Is one of the geniuses helping us out in bringing this plant back to life.”

“Almost ready,” A man who he’s pretty sure is Rocket sighs. “Just waiting for Groot to drag Quill’s ass back in here.”

“You might need a few minutes," His brother laughs. "He has 80s playing.”

Rocket mutters under his breath before yanking open the door yelling for his friend to get back in here. Both men laugh, walking to the plant floor as other people work using old machinery they managed to get working again. 

A few moments later, Rocket announces he’s about to start it up again. Another few seconds go by, the turbine finally spinning as the light figures hanging flicker on. Everyone cheers, Rhodey sending a thumbs-up to the boys in the control room.

“Nice work boys! Somebody get on the horn and tell Carol and Valkyrie the good news." They walk a little bit more, a cocky smile on Rhodey's lips. "You see that?”

“Pretty impressive, Platypus. I would say you redeemed yourself from that drunk invention you made at MIT.”

“Hey! War Machine had some flaws but he certainly wasn't bad.”

“I can distinctly remember it setting the curtains on fire.”

“Says the man who burned his eyebrows off.”

They bust out into laughter again, just like the good old days. There were no petty fights weighing down on them. Things were back to normal, a person he thought he lost back in his life.

_ God, he missed him.  _

Navigating around the cheering works and down another set of stairs, Rhodey leads him to another worn door. Instead of more hallways, the door leads to an office filled with a mixture of natural and artificial light. He walks inside, taking in the room; it was mostly barren except for a desk, set of wooden chairs, and a wall of file cabinets. His brother shuts the door, a smirk tugging at Tony’s lips. 

“You got some interesting characters here huh?”

His friend laughs. “Strange nicknames I can’t explain, maybe a bit chaotic at times but still good people.” He pauses with a proud and fond smile. “This place gave them a second chance, gave us all a second chance.”

Rhodey shifts his gaze, eyes narrowing as landed on Tony. They stare at each other for a few seconds, a silent conversation held between them. His friend knew him long enough that his sudden appearance wasn’t to bury the hatchet. He wouldn’t have just left Boston without a sure plan or need. 

“You're a long way from home little brother,” Rhodey jokes.

“Well, I’ve quite the adventure,” Tony pulls out a chair sitting down with a heavy sigh.

“Let me guess, it has something to do with that boy.”

He laughs. “It’s got everything to do with that boy.”

His brother takes the seat, already showing interest. “Well, go on then.”

He gets to the point. “He’s immune.”

“Immune to what?”

They share another look, Rhodey scoffing and shaking his head. He stops when Tony doesn’t follow, brows furrowing giving him the classic collage _‘are you on drugs’_ look. When he doesn’t get anything from the man, shakes his head in disbelief.

“Oh, c’mon.”

“I know, I wouldn't have believed it either, but I can show you.” He stares at him intently. “I’ve seen him breathe enough spores to take down a dozen men and,” He stops shaking his head still surprised at Peter’s immunity. “ _ Nothing,  _ no signs of infection anywhere.”

His friend leans back in his chair unsure. “Alright, I’ll bite.” He shrugs it off playing with the hem of his jacket. “Why bring him here?”

_ A series of complicated emotions and challenges. _

“I was supposed to deliver him to the Avengers-” 

He cringes at the word delivers, almost making his blood boil. It didn’t sit right, acting like the kid was some package, Peter was a person, a person whose trust he might just be betraying. Guilt washed over him again, thoughts pledging him about the aftermath of his request.

“I thought maybe your guys-”

He’s cut off by a scoff, Rhodey’s chill demeanor changing. 

_ Don’t be mad, don’t be- _

“Look I-” He stops himself trying to sell this idea he’s been toying with since Maria died, more importantly since the shitshow at Pittsburgh. “You finish the job and collect the whole damn payment.”

_ He can’t trust himself with the kid, he can’t traumatize him even more. Rhodey was the much better option for him. Peter didn’t need his bad luck looming over him anymore. _

“In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t seen an Avenger in years.”

“But you do know  _ where _ they are,” He watches the disbelief grow on Rhodey’s face. “All I need is some simple gear-”

“What makes you think I’d do this for you?”

_ There it was. _

_ Shit. _

_ They weren’t ok after all. _

“This isn’t me, Rhodes. This for your cause.”

_ Lies, lies, lies- _

“My cause is my family now, this  _ place _ and  _ these _ people, not the Avengers.” His friend grows irritated at the offer. “This isn’t some walk in the park.”

“Jesus,” He tries to keep his cool. “Have Carol and Valkyrie round some people up.”

“They have families too,” His brother’s eyes narrow. “And so did you.”

His words are like venom, many of their previous fight taking the forefront. 

“Rhodey, don’t-”

“Don’t what?” His friend fumes. "Don't point out how his kid makes you actually genuinely smile for the first time in years? How you're just running away because you're scared of losing-”

“Rhodey,” He cuts him off, anger and panic mixing together. “ _ I need this.” _

The conversation stops, the silence deafening. The tension in the air grows thick, his brother pushing all the right buttons, calling him out on his bullshit.

"You want some gear? Sure." He huffs. "But I'm not taking that boy off your hands.”

Anger grows. "This is how you're gonna repay me huh?”

Rhodey stands up from the chair annoyed as Tony follows. Both chairs rock against the floors, anger growing between them. 

_ “Repay you?!” _

“For all those Goddamn years I took care of us.”

“Took care," He scoffs. "That's what you call it? Because from what I recall your ass was drunkenly blaming me for shit I couldn't change.”

“You know I wasn't-”

“I got nothing but nightmares from those years, Tony. I still remember that first day, the day everything went to shit. You didn't just lose your wife that day, I lost my best friend too.” Rhodey gets up close to his face. “Do you know the countless nights I stayed awake worrying about you huh? The suicidal missions you go on only to be dragged out by Hill nearly dead.”

“You survived because of those runs, we would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn't for me!" Tony yells.

“It wasn't worth it," He bites back fuming. “And I know you have guilt about that night, I do too. You don't know how many times I ran that night over and over again in my head until I went crazy." He looks right in the eye challenging him. "But if you think I'm going to let to take that same shit and push it on me, on that kid, then you're dead wrong.”

Tony shoves him into the file cabinet, breathing heavily. The clang of metal echoed in the room, emotions swirl as panic and anger take over. He didn’t care what his friend thought, he was not the person the kid needed to bring to Avengers. 

“I bring you the cure for mankind and you want to bring up past grudges?!"

“We ain't back in New York or Boston, _Anthony_ ," Rhodey's goes calm, still threatening. "You lay your hands on me again and it won't end well for you. Either face up to your demons or forever be stuck in your own head, using alcohol to drown your sorrows.”

His nostrils flared, mouth opening to spew nasty words at the ready when a jarring siren broke through. Rhodey’s eyes shifted from anger to concern, the siren still jarringly echoing in the small room. His brother mutters a few things under his breath shoving Tony to the side.

“What the hell is that?” He asks, still fuming.

“We’re under attack,” Rhodey huffs out, already grabbing his weapon he put to the side. His demeanor changes a bit, much less threatening than he was moments ago. “You still remember how to kill right?”

“No shit,” He mutters back following the concerned man out the door and pushing their latest conversation deep down.

_ He wasn’t so sure they could fix this divide. _


	16. What Loss Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pushes Tony forward, still on edge. “Head to the bridge!”
> 
> Just as they sprinted outside, Rhodey’s walkie talkie roared with life, a very stressed Carol coming on as gunshots echoed on her end. “Rhodey! Bandits are breaking into the building!”
> 
> _Oh God, Peter._
> 
> “Can you get out of there?” His friend panics as gunfire echoes in the distance as bandits charge at them.
> 
> “No, we're trapped." She huffs more gunshots going off.
> 
> “Stay put, we're coming to you!”
> 
> “They're here, shit! "Carol yells. "Peter, hide!”
> 
> _Fuck, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, guns, and death

The moment they ran back into the main plant ground, Tony barely had any time to process that shitshow of a conversation or his worry for Peter before bullets started flying. Rhodey breaks off to one cover, a few other workers hiding behind machines and other crates as a smoke bomb hinders their view. Among the chaos, he distinctly hears the word _bandits_ before the deafening sound of gunfire cuts him off. 

Smoke still lingers, his eyes only able to make out a few feet in front of him watching two workers huddled behind pallets trying not to get killed. One of the men gasped in pain, blood flowing from a gunshot wound in his arm. More bullets fly, Tony whipping out his shotgun and firing at the bandits charging through the smoke. 

The main plant area is split in two, the upper near control room littered with assholes as he fights on the ground trying to get to the stairs. He fires a few more rounds, taking out two guys as Rhodey moves behind him watching his six. His friend fires at the bandits above, military training coming in clutch as he takes out a few guys himself.  Together, they find cover behind a workbench, both firing at the doorway leading to the control room. More bullets flew, gunshots echoing in the room as voices tried to yell over the noise. Moving from their cover, they carefully weave through the large turbines, eyes alert for people trying to kill them.

When they finally do make it up to the upper floor, more bandits begin firing as both men dash from cover to cover. After a few minutes, they clear out the upper landing as the rest of their group holes up in the control room. Gunfire continues from both sides, neither making a solid dent from their respective covers. The bandits hold the upper hand, the control center attacking as the prefect hideout as they peak their guns from the now shattered windows. 

After some time, their cover of wood crates begins to splinter from the impact. More bullets burst through the wood, clear holes exposing them to the bandits. Panicked, Tony eyes dart around the small pathway trying to find something that wasn't bullet-ridden to hid behind. His gaze shifts downward, watching the wisps of the smoke fade into the air. A small gasp leaves him, mind remembering his find in Pittsburgh. He fires another round before lowering his weapon, hand fishing out a smoke bomb of his own. 

Waiting for the bandits to pause in their firing, he gestures for Rhodey to cover him as he surges forward. He dives towards the next set of crates, teeth ripping off the pin of the smoke bomb. It flares with life, leaving his hand as the gunfire returns. The white trail of smoke hinders his view, a few more shots echoing through the warehouse. His brother dives right next to him, back pinned against the room until heard the bomb clatter against the concrete. The gunfire ceases as metal clangs against the floor, voices gagging on the influx of smoke. 

Both men get a good look at the control room, bodies surging forward as smoke fills the space. Shadows dance across the control room, dazed bandits trying to find the source of the smoke. Wisps of white puff out of the shattered windows, a haze of thick clouds giving them the upper hand. Just a few inches from the chaos inside, they unload their guns taking out the remaining assholes inside. Lights and blood flicker through the smoke, five men all slumping to the ground without a fighting chance. The shadows stop as they heave out shaky breaths, gunfire ceasing in the warehouse.

An eerie silence follows, both men walking into the mess of the control room. All the bodies remain on the floor, the smoke finally clearing out into the larger space. Rhodey takes a moment to step out, voice booming below to his men as he gives out instructions. More voices erupt as his friend returns back inside. 

He pushes Tony forward, still on edge. “Head to the bridge!”

Just as they sprinted outside, Rhodey’s walkie talkie roared with life, a very stressed Carol coming on as gunshots echoed on her end. “Rhodey! Bandits are breaking into the building!”

_ Oh God, Peter. _

“Can you get out of there?” His friend panics as gunfire echoes in the distance as bandits charge at them.

“No, we're trapped." She huffs more gunshots going off.

“Stay put, we're coming to you!”

“They're here, shit! "Carol yells. "Peter, hide!”

_ Fuck, fuck. _

Just as she stopped responding, three men charged at them with a variety of handheld weapons. Two of the men swung their spike-covered bats as Tony and Rhodey took defensive stances. 

Taking his metal pipe he blocks the strike meant for him as clanging metal echoed. The spikes dent his pipe, barbed wire taking his weapon as the man yanks it back. Tony acts instinct, heel kicking right into the bandit's dick before whipping out his gun to fire. The man doesn’t recover from the first blow, only gasping as the air on his lips fall short. His body slumps, muscles going lax as he hits the metal ground. 

Tony stumbles back, eyes catching Rhodey putting the other man in a chokehold before jamming a shiv into his neck. The bandit gurgles hands stretched out until his body slumps to the ground. Both men heave, eyes then landing on a rather huge man sprinting at them with a bloody ax. They reach for their guns, action cut short as other bullets riddle the ax-wielding man . With a painful rasp, the man stumbles to the ground body going limp. Blood pools, red substance slowly dipping off the sides and into the rushing water below.

Stunned his eye dart upward to find Rocket, Quill, and the extremely tall man coming from the other side of the bridge. More gunfire came from the distance, other workers fighting up ahead. Smoke still wisps from their guns, all three men covered in their own array of blood splatter. Adrenaline and panic pumps through him, shaky hands taking the blood-soaked ax fro himself. Tony's gaze only shifts back towards the men a pitiful whimper catches his attention. His head snaps up, eyes finding the tall man comforting Lucky as the poor pup tries to drown out the loud sounds. 

“Groot, now is not the time to be puppy protector.”

_ His name was Groot… _

_ He really didn’t have time for this. _

The tall man doesn’t speak, only huffing with annoyance as he clutches the dog. Rocket rolls his eyes, reloading his gun muttering something under his breath. The man gestures his friend inside, Groot smirking as Lucky perks up as they head into a safe space. Quill doesn’t move from his spot, quite hellbent on getting to the other side of the bridge. The man reloads his two guns, turning to Rhodey with wild eyes.

“I need to find Gamora,” He huffs. “You wanna kill these asshats?”

“You just read my mind,” Rhodey smirks, reloading his own gun.

The three men surge forward, just barely making it to the wider section of the bridge before another gunfight broke out. They dive for cover, bodies leaning against crates as bullets ricochet around them. When the gunshots stop, all three hop up from their hiding spots guns unleashing on the bandits. Their firing ensues for another few rounds of hiding and shooting, water from the river gushing below them as the chilly depths turn a darker shade of red.  During these rounds, Quill proves himself rather quickly.

The man fires both guns at the same time, weaving from cover to cover killing the bandits closest to him. Skilled in these types of fights, he draws the men's attention to him; going as far to nab a smoke bomb off living bandit. He kills the bastard a second later, letting the smoke erupt around them. The bandits curse among themselves, white clouds hindering their shots. 

Rhodey and Tony use this as their chance, sprinting forward to where Quill hides. Gunfire continues until they run out of ammo, only stopping their crusade to reload. As they pause, two bandits get brave trying to flank the men with machetes. One charges for Rhodey, blade inches away from his neck as Tony just as quickly swings his ax into the asshat's face. Blood splatters, his brother already jumping up to fire at the other lunatic aiming for Quill.

Their bodies fall, gunshots going dead silent as the smoke starts to clear. Tony doesn't let his guard down, cocking his shotgun with his finger firmly on the trigger. A few moments go by, three more heads peeking out only to be met with their bullets. The men fall limp, all the bandits on the bridge finally dead.  The silence on their part doesn’t last forever, gunshots and other people yelling erupt within the building connected to the bridge. They don’t linger any longer, sprinting pass the blood and chaos to the door at the end. 

“We have to get the girls!”

“Right behind you!”

The moment they slam open the door, they find another group firing below at the bandits. The sheer number of bandits grew, outnumbering their small group of three and four others. Bullets fly at them, the group diving and taking cover behind the metal coverings against the railings. Tony slides down to the floor as bullets pounded against it, eyes watching in panic as Rhodey sits next to him. Quill sits a few feet away, muttering to some woman as they try to fire at the bandits. 

“Jesus, how many are there?!” His friend huffs.

“Hold on, let me check,” Tony answers, peaking out for second only to get nearly shot. He yelps, crouching back down as bullets continue pounding against metal. “Shit.”

“Well?” 

“Too fast, nothing.”

Rhodey slowly turns to him clearly not amused shaking his head as he tries to peak around as well. His brother curses face just turning in time to avoid the sparks coming from the bullet hitting the metal. 

“About ten or eleven men down there, all armed with guns.”

Tony racks his brain for ideas, running over scenarios of past shitshows, his experiences over the last twenty years. A couple of seconds later, he gets the bright idea swinging his bag around and pulling out a Molotov he made before coming here. He turns to his friend, a panic but semi-confident smirk as Rhodey just stares not sold on what he had planned. 

“So, remember back in 2015 where we were in another warehouse and cornered," Tony starts waiting for the window to enact his plan. "And all we had was some alcohol, a rag, and a lighter.”

“Tony,” His friend says calmly. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you're doing.”

He shrugs already lighting the rag. “Incoming!” He yells, chucking the bottle waiting until he hears the glass shattering against the pavement. 

As the Molotov combusted, the men below yelled in pain as flames erupted up their clothes. A few fell to the ground in panic, others trying to flee as their group of seven took their chance in taking out the men. Rhodey fires his gun, face clearly flabbergasted as he shoots two guys trying to put out the flames on their arms. 

“Tony, what the fuck?!” His friend yells still watching the chaos below. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“It worked back in 2015!”

“It was mostly on the infected!”

“There were a few living people in the mix!”

“And do you remember how that smell lingered for months?!”

Tony sucks in a breath. “Oh yeah, my bad. I mean hey, it worked?” He gestures to the last bandits getting taken out.

“Just-” Rhodey shakes his head, saving that thought for later. He aims his gun, taking out the last guy with a heavy sigh. “Everybody move out, we’re not done here. I want these assholes gone!”

Their group of seven breaks off once more, the four others charging in another room all while avoiding the burnt bodies. The gunfire stops, their group of three stumbling into another room that resembled a rec room. Pool tables showcase abandoned games as the other tables have leftover meals left in a panic. 

As they sneak inside, they come upon a small standoff between bandits and the group they were hellbent on getting to. Tony’s heart nearly skips a beat once he sees Valkyrie and Carol protectively standing in front of Peter with their guns raised. They stayed holed up in their little office space, bandits taunting the woman with crude comments. Quill cocks his gun, the action drawing the men’s attention away from the girls. They smirk evilly, guns arcing away from the woman and onto them. 

“Hold on sweetheart,” One man laughs. “I gotta take care-”

Carol and Valkyrie unleash a flurry of bullets without flinching. The men didn’t have a chance to return fire, bullets riddling their bodies as they slump to the floor lifeless. The room falls silent, both groups staring at each other with a bit of relief. 

“Are they all dead?” Valkyrie asks, gun still raised as she scans the room. Blood trickles down her face from a cut on her temple, nothing seemingly to fazing her. “Assholes.”

“They should be,” Rhodey sighs, sparing a glance to Tony. “Everyone ok?”

“All good,” Carol replies this time. “The kid’s with me!”

He doesn’t really register any other comments made after that. Instead, he only breaths out a sigh of relief walking fully into the room. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, body moving him closer to where the kid was hiding.

“That was too damn close.” He mutters.

The girls come out first, Quill rushing outside yelling for his wife until his voice fades out. The girls run up to Rhodey, three leaders trying to wrap their heads around what the hell happened. The kid finally comes out unscathed, sprinting to Tony.

“Tony!" Peter yells latching onto the man as he stumbles over to check the kid over. "Oh, man..." He wildly gestures around, almost excited and amazed. "They were coming in from every direction!”

"Okay," He tries to calm the boy, listening as a kid with asthma seemed to ramble on without a breath. 

“Then Carol was like _we gotta run!”_

“Kid-”

Peter ignores him. "And so we dove over these tables and this huge guy blasts in with a shotgun!”

Excitedly the kid rambles on, growing out of breath explaining in great detail about the man with the shotgun.

“Slow down, slow down. Listen-”

“And then-”

Tony grabs the kid’s shoulders, shaking him gently before cupping his face with his hand. Peter finally stops taking a breath.

“Hey, hey." His hand doesn't move as he takes a deep breath himself. "Are you hurt?”

“No," The kid heaves breaking away to gesture how he's fine." Tony's hands move to rest on his shoulders. "But man, Valkyrie whipped out some badass moves and practically roundhouse kicked the guy before sucker punching him into the wall and-”

________

Some exciting retellings and glares later, Tony finds himself sitting on the bed of an old tracker listening to the girls and Rhodey have a pretty heated discussion. A few feet away, the kid plays with Lucky as Quill, Gamora, and the rest of their little group deal with some of the bodies outside. His ears pick up on the kid’s laughter as Lucky gives him kisses, guilt only growing in his stomach even more. He doesn’t dwell on it for long, as the heated conversation takes over once more.

“Absolutely not," Carol huffs, running a hand through her short blond hair. "You tell him to go find somebody else.”

“Guys, I can't have this hanging over my head." Rhodey sighs. "Listen I know it's hard to understand but we go way-”

“Yeah way back," Valkyrie butts in. "May I remind you that this guy was the same one dragging you in drunken supply runs for the scum of the Earth.”

Her wife also adds. "How many stories have you told us about him and bow suddenly he's back for you to be melting into his hands?”

“It's complicated-”

“More complicated than going on another suicidal mission?!”

“Do you have any idea how many men we lost here today?!”

He fiddles with his fingers as the two women bring up his unsavory past. The first few years were quite unstable for him to be honest. He watches them get more heated, only to have the kid come up cutting his guilty thoughts.

“Hey, what's-" Peter's brows furrow, Lucky sitting at his feet happily wagging his tail. "What's all that about?”

Tony can’t look him in the eye, gaze only watching the dog glare into his soul like an all-knowing being. He doesn’t answer the kid either, only shaking his head while shrugging. Peter doesn’t drop it, listening to the bickering while petting Lucky.

“Does that anything to do with me?”

_ Yes, but mostly my selfish reasons. _

“We'll talk about it later," He snaps back, catching the kid off guard. 

He hasn't lost his cool in a while. Peter stops petting Lucky, eye narrowing as he instead moves closer and glaring at Tony. 

"Well, did he tell you where the lab is?”

“We'll talk about it later," He bites out, a stern look matching the kid's.

“Later..." The kid scoffs, rolling his eyes whistling for Lucky to follow him. "Whatever man, act like a dick all you want.”

_ They haven’t fought like this since Boston. _

Peter stomps off somewhere close, huffing as he sends another glare before disappearing out of his sight. Tony only felt his guilt grow more, mind trying to reason with him that the kid hating him would be better. He doesn’t like the idea of parting ways but after everything, after all the trauma he indirectly caused,  Rhodey was by far the better choice.

“James, it takes _one,_ " Carol expresses, still fuming. "One fuck up and suddenly we're down a leader.”

He tunes back into the conversation. 

“Carol-”

“Do we have to remind you what happened to Korg?" Valkyrie interrupts. "He tried to repay an old pal and what happened? He got fucking eaten by clickers. All it takes is _one fuck up.”_

Rhodey doesn't budge. "I have to do this." Both women shook their heads pissed. "I don't know what else to say.”

“You know what," Carol raises her hands up annoyed. "Go be clicker bate. It's your funeral.”

“Guys-”

Her wife jabs a finger at his chest. "No, go help your friend throw his baggage on you because he's got daddy issues.”

_ Ouch, that hit deep. _

Both women turn and walk right up to Tony, a fury in their eyes that matches the power of Pepper’s when she was pissed. He sat upright, holding in a sigh expecting an earful. Valkyrie lets Carol take the lead, eyes menacingly glaring daggers into his soul. She pulls out a knife, twirling it between her fingers. 

“Just so you're aware," She starts getting real close. "If anything happens to him that's on you and no one else. All because you can't keep your own baggage to yourself.”

_ It’s all your fault. _

He nods watching both women walk off still pissed as they move onto other tasks needed around the plant. He then turns Rhodey, scratching the back of his neck with a deep sigh. 

“They're thankful you know," His friend starts. "Without you, we could have lost more people today.”

“That may be but they still don't seem that fond of me.”

“They're worried, that's all," Rhodey replies. "I'll take Pete to the Avengers but are you sure you don't-”

“No," He doesn't look his brother in the eye, shaking his head trying to shallow the growing guilt. "It's better this way, it's better that we parted ways.”

“Okay," Rhodey looks a bit disappointed, eyes almost pleading with him to rethink. "Maybe some real good will come from this.”

“I need to talk to the kid.”

The conversation ends there, a silence lingering between them before Lucky runs up to his feet. Tony stares, laughing bitterly at the universe reminding him of this decision. Rhodey’s walkie roars with life making him step away. Lucky barks to get his attention, gaze shifting as he watches the dog tug at his pant leg."

“Lucky," He sighs. "Go play with the kid.”

“Tones!" Rhodey catches his attention. 

“What is it?”

“That kid of yours, he took one of our horses and rode off.”

_ He rode- _

_ Shit, did Peter hear that whole- _

Lucky only came up to him because the kid ran off.

“Damn it,” He curses following his friend. “Which way.”

They run to the far gate, hopping on horses and heading back out into the forest. Rhodey leads the way, both men following the tracks left by the horse the kid stole. The dirt path switches to a concrete road, the horses' hooves clipping against the plant-covered pavement. Riding at full speed, they passed by a section of lumber the group cut down. Peter was still nowhere in sight. 

“He couldn't have gotten far," His friend reassures. "We'll find him. Don't worry.”

_ Peter never ran off before. _

_ What happened? _

_ Shit. _

The conversation ends there, as both their eyes scan the area of leftover twenty-year-old cars covered in moss. They travel into a tunnel, squeezing passed more abandoned cars. 

“Does he usually pull stunts like this?”

“Nothing like this," Tony sighs guilt still there. "I don't know what's going on.”

The mountains come into view again, the light finally peeking through the grey skies as they head around corners. Coming up a hill, they come to a halt as a large rock slide blocks the road. Both men look around, Tony finally spotting a small clearing in the woods. They move forward, eyes catching the tracks once again. 

Now leading the way, Tony goes at full speed into the forest; worry and panic bubbling up once more. He just got the kid back in some form of safety and now he was running off into a place he’s not familiar with.

_ Oh, kid what were you thinking? _

Together they travel down the muddy incline, weaving around the large cliff slides. Water splashes up on his pant legs as the horse runs through the puddles. He and Rhodey gaze through the landscape for the kid’s tracks leading to a narrow pathway. Still leading the way, Tony’s brown horse trots towards the pathway, mid-jump over a fallen log when flames burst from under them. 

“Whoa, whoa--!” The horse tosses him off, another Molotov thrown their way as his horse runs in the other direction.

Tony hits the grass, flames inches away from his face as he panics scrambling behind a rusted pickup purposely placed there. The flames slowly go out, his panicked gaze catching more cars narrowing the pathway even more. He curses, huddling behind the truck as a cluster of unknown voices come from ahead. A few heads finally peak around, bodies running from cover to cover. 

His mind reels, processing the fact that Peter had to come through this area. _Was he hurt? Did the bandits have him? Was he-_ He stops that though real quick, heart nearly skipping a beat. The kid was smart, he probably made it passed them, hopefully. 

Rhodey comes up from behind. “I got your back!” His friend takes the side closest to the hood watching Tony slowly inch towards the truck. “How many you see?”

“Too damn many.”

His brother, gun drawn, gestures him forward. “Go around, I’ll cover you.”

He nods, sprinting forward ax in hand towards the next form of cover. Rhodey fires a few shots, weaving around the bullets aimed at the pickup. His friend takes out one sniper, then another inching close to his spot. Another bandit comes around the large rock, not noticing Tony before an ax was in his neck. The man slumps to the ground as his brother moves towards him.

They cover some ground, hopping over ledges, guns drawn taking out the very men who tried sending people to invade the plant. Molotovs light up the shady pathway, flames exploding around them as they book it towards a cluster of cabins mostly covered in foliage. Rhodey makes a few perfect shots, unfazed as he explodes the Molotovs before it leaves the asshole’s hand. 

The gunfire continues for another few minutes, flames burning as the cluster of bandits one by one fall. The last two men find cover within one of the cabins, chucking bottles like madmen hoping the flames would hit them. Tony gestures for Rhodey to go around, both of them silently stalking around as the men curse loudly looking for them. Once they come around the back, they just stop before the broken windows give them away. They wait three seconds, acting on his cue before unleashing their gunfire upon them. With a surprised rasp, both men slump to the floor in their own blood. The forest falls silent once more, panicked birds chirping above as they flee from the scene.

It was clockwork, two brothers still able to work together as a team.

“That’s all of them,” Tony huffs, reloading his gun as they search for any useful items on the men. 

From the explosions, they only managed to snag a few rounds of ammo before they returned to the horses chilling by the pathway’s entrance. Rhodey whistles from them to come over, both trotting over like one of them nearly didn’t get turned into charred horse meat.

“Valkyrie managed to snag a few from an abandoned ranch a while ago,” His brother remarks, noticing the curious gaze he had. “I’m pretty sure someone set up a race track before things hit the fan. They’re trained for riders.”

“I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

“Well that's good,” Rhodey pauses, turning back to him as they saddle up. “Because the kid took off of Valkyrie’s horse.”

“Oh God,” He sighs. “He didn’t.”

His friend only shrugs, speeding off out of the deathtrap and back onto a normal trail. Together they glance around, searching the area hoping that those asshats didn’t get to the kid. The tracks still continued but they had no idea if the kid made it passed their clutches. They travel deeper into the forest, riding around the winding hills as the gray skies fade away. The sun began to set, an evening glow just peeking over the horizon. 

The dirt trail reverts back to stone, a large ranch coming into view. Rhodey slows his pace by the entrance, eyes gazing upon the overgrown ranch with rural fields. A barn sits a few miles off, farmland left barren for a vast amount of years.

“There,” His friend points back to the porch of the ranch. His eyes perk up, gazing on the white majestic horse chilling at the front. “That’s our horse. He’s gotta be there.”

Tony already rides off before his brother finishes, entering the Howling Commandos Corral at full speed. Once he reaches the porch, he hops off tying his horse next to its pal. He doesn’t really process Rhodey’s all clear, heart pounding at the status of his kid.

_ Was he breathing? _

_ Was he hurt? _

_ Either way, this kid was in for an earful. _

He opens up the door, wood creaking to reveal a rather intact house. Furniture was still in place, dust covering them to showcase no movement. To be honest, it was like stepping into a time machine as he looked around. Everything was perfect, no forms of panic packing or even blood stains to be seen. 

“Peter?” He calls out searching around the vast house. His voice only echos, a mixture of worry and stress kicking in. _“Peter?!”_

Silence lingers, panic gripping his lungs when a nonchalant kid calls down to him. “I’m up here!”

“Jesus Christ,” He sighs, running a tired hand over his face. 

His pace lessens from his panicked stride, left hand still trembling from the sheer thought of the kid being hurt or dead. He rounds the corner, stumbling upon more of a panic scene in the dining room with a scattering of papers and maps. He approaches, fingers running over the papers before noticing the Avengers logo on half of the documents. He gawks, hands shifting through the papers hoping for an indication towards their group. Tony didn’t care that Rhodey was taking over, maybe he could point them in the right direction. 

However, all papers were mostly tasks and notes, not a form of direction. From what he could gather, a small group was holed up here until the much larger ground came through with supplies. There was no indication of their destination, only leftover papers, and pendants of fallen friends. He sighs, passing Rhodey searching through the kitchen for supplies before he treks up the stairs. 

The kid doesn’t call out for him anymore, leaving Tony to mindlessly search around a large number of bedrooms and offices still left untouched. Reaching the end of the hall, he sighs opening the door to the last bedroom. Once he’s inside, he finds the kid chilling on a bay window nose deep in some book. Peter doesn’t look at him just yet, only flipping the page and furrowing his brows as he reads. 

The bedroom was a teenage girl's room, light blue walls lined with all of her favorite memories in pictures. Posters hang; bands and movie posters that she seemed to be obsessed with. The clothes in the closet were mostly gone, only a few dresses left hanging and collecting dust.  Tony clears his throat, snapping his fingers trying to get the kid’s attention. Peter finally looks up, giving him a small wave before settling back down in his pillow set up. 

_ He might just kill this kid. _

He walks towards him, hand itching to rip the book out of his hand. He stops himself from acting out in anger, trying to keep this situation as calm as possible. Sure the kid ran off like an idiot but it didn’t mean he had to be a dick.

The kid is the first to speak. “Is this really all they had to worry about?” He flips the page, holding up a journal he was reading through. “Boys, girls, movies.” He sighs scoffing at something he reads. “Deciding on which shirt goes with what pants, it’s bizarre. I don’t think I ever thought about that.”

“Get up, we’re leaving,” He gestures just wanting to get the hell out of here. He tries to remain civil when the kid doesn’t move. “C’mon.”

“And if I say no?”

Tony bites his tongue, pinching the bridge of his nose. Peter only cocks a brow, shutting the book and crossing his arms. 

“Do you even realize what your life means?”

_ To me. _

_ To the world. _

The kid only shrugs, lips drawn tight as he shrugs off the comment. Tony’s cool breaks slightly, worry and anger breaking through. 

“Running off like that,” He starts his spiel. “Putting yourself at risk? It’s pretty goddamn stupid.”

Peter finally sits up, chugging a pillow to the side roughly. “Well, I guess we’re both disappointed with each other then.”

The conversation goes downhill from there.

“What do you want from me?” He questions approaching the moody teen with a glare. “Huh?”

Anger washes over the kid, eyes narrowing. “Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time.”

_ This was not how he wanted this conversation to go. _

Tony opens his mouth to talk, words failing to come out as he studies the hurt in the kid’s eyes. He takes a deep breath, mind trying to put some sort of excuse together. 

“Rhodey knows this area better than-”

“Agh, fuck that.” Peter fumes standing to his feet, hands rubbing against his temples.

“Well, I’m sorry.”

_ I really am, you don’t deserve my messes. _

“I trust him better than I trust myself.”

_ He won’t traumatize you. _

“Stop with the bullshit, Tony.” The kid stares into his soul with an intensity. “What are you so afraid of?!”

_ Losing you. _

Silence lingers, guilt growing within him as the kid angrily stands there clearly hurt. Tony can’t find the right words, his brain telling him this is the right decision as his heart tells him to hold on. He was afraid of so much and this kid did not need his added baggage he carried for the last twenty years.

“What is huh?!” Peter challenges him, jabbing a finger in his chest. “That I’m gonna end up like Shuri? Well newsflash wise-ass, I can’t get infected.” He pauses drawing in a shaky breath. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long before you came.”

Words erupt from his mouth, his worries coming to ahead. “How many close calls have we had?!”

“We seem to be doing alright so far.”

Tony’s voice raises. “And now you’ll be doing even better with Rhodey!” He curses, hand trembling as he turns away to collect himself.

The heat leaves the kid’s voice. “I’m not them, you know.”

His head snaps up. “What now?”

“Carol and Valkyrie told be about Pepper-”

His body visibly tenses, emotions bubbling deep down. That night flashes by: the blood, the screams all coming to the forefront. He swallows a lump in his throat, mask desperately trying to hide his loss of composure. The neck holding his rings grows hot, chain suffocating him the longer his mind lingers back to that night.

“Especially how you also lost your-”

His emotions break through, anger laced in his voice. “Peter,” He warns, staring at the kid trying to keep his cool. “You are treading on some mighty thin ice here.”

_ I already lost one kid, I’m not losing another to my mistakes. _

Peter pushes the subject more. “I’m sorry about your wife and your kid, Tony.” He looks him in the eye pleading with him. “But I have lost people too.”

“You have _ no _ idea what loss is.”

_ You weren’t there, you didn’t lose your whole world in one night. _

_ You grew up in this mess, I didn’t. _

The anger returns to the kid’s face, figure shaking as he gets emotional. “Try me dickhead,” He fumes, tears filling his eyes. “My parents? Never met them, all I know is that my dad got thrown to clickers by raiders as my mom fled with my aunt and uncle. Two months later, my mom died giving birth to  _ me.”  _ His voice cracks, guilt written all over him. 

He pauses trying to compose himself, stepping closer to Tony with a fury. 

“And you know what happens next?” He laughs bitterly. “Six years old, I have my first asthma attack. I can barely breathe and my uncle risks a trip out of the zone just to get meds that the military wasn’t giving us. And when he returns, bloody and pale, those soldiers yank him out into the street just as he places the medicine down. They scanned him and he lit up,” The kid’s voice cracks, eyes glassy. “They killed him before my aunt could even say goodbye.”

Tony opens his mouth to say something, only to be silenced by the kid once more. 

“My aunt lasted for four more years before she was stuck in the crossfire of a gunfight between soldiers and rioting people. She was dead in seconds and I could only watch on the sidelines before they threw me into SHIELD Academy,” He paused once more, lip wobbling as memories replayed in front of him. “But the worst one was Ned, my boyfr-” His voice cracks, unable to finish his sentence. “So don’t you  _ dare  _ say I don’t know what loss is. Because everyone I cared for has died.”

Peter closes the gap between them, emotions erupting. 

“Everyone-” The kid shoves him roughly. “Fucking except for you.” Tears freely fall down his face. “So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is I would just be more sacred.”

The kid sniffles, as Tony stumbles back. They stare at each other, the tension in the air growing. The guilt inside him only grows deeper, brain outweighing his heart as he pushes his own pain way down. He just stands there, listening to the kid pour his heart out unable to let him in. It was tough love, needed to protect the kid he so desperately wanted to stay with. Peter deserved a fighting chance and he certainly wasn’t that option. 

What he utters next, only made his heart hurt more.

“You're right,” He starts, invisible mask hiding his real emotions. “You're not my son, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” He stops taking a step back from Peter watching as the kid looks visibly hurt. “And we are going our separate ways.”

Peter wipes his tears, mouth opening to reply when the door behind them bursts open. They both jump, eyes landing on Rhodey gun in hand with a wide look. He holds up a finger to his lips, breathing heavily as he takes cover behind the wall peeking out into the hallway.

“Get it together. We’re not alone.” 

Tony finally gets his leg moving, eyes looking out the window only to watch two men run in. “Two walking in.”

“More inside already.”

Peter doesn’t move from his spot, still out in the open. He turns to the kid, silently gesturing for him to step away from the door frame. The kid only rolls his red-rimmed eyes, face showing no emotion. 

“Kid you gotta-”

“Last I checked, I don’t have to listen to you anymore, _Stark.”_

Tony tries his best to hide the hurt, mind coming to terms with what he told himself back in Boston. It was better for the kid to hate him, it made things much easier to part ways. 

“Kid uh,” Rhodey gently pulls him towards the dresser picking up on the tension in the room. “I know you’re angry but let’s put things aside until we’re in a safer area.”

“Yeah sorry,” He answers as men burst inside. “It’s best to get out of here so Stark can go on his merry way.”

Tony tears his eyes off the kid, swallowing the lump in his throat trying to focus on the threat below. He tries his hardest, listening to men’s voices as his hands shake replaying what he just said. It’s only then he comes to one conclusion.

Making the kid hate him wasn’t worth it. 


	17. Better Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter ends up knocking out the last man with T’Challa’s brass knuckles. The black metal, breaking the man’s nose before the kid sent another blow to his face. The man’s body slumps to the floor completely out cold. Both men just stare at Peter's sudden outburst and the violence of said hits. 
> 
> “Uh,” Tony’s mouth goes dry, unsure what to even say. “Nice...job?”
> 
> “Whatever,” Peter huffs gesturing to the stairs. “Lead the way dick head.”
> 
> Rhodey sighs, whispering. “Kid-”
> 
> “No, no,” He stops his friend, trying to smile through the pain. “It’s fine.”
> 
> _It really wasn’t._
> 
> _But he deserved it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, guns

Trying not to let his mind spin into a never-ending spiral, Tony leaves the bedroom first. Stealthy, he moves down the hallway sidestepping his way into the office area. He doesn’t dare look where he came from, already feeling the kid’s glaring eyes on him. The guilt clutches him once more, mind desperately trying to think about the assholes hellbent on killing them. 

Peeking out from the doorway, he watches a few men scope out the rooms closest to the steps. They all wear similar clothing, worn jackets or hoodies covered in an amount of grime that makes the house reek. They were bandits, after all, people roughing it in tents and stealing from any other camps. 

Reek aside, he watches one man walk out of the master bedroom. He fixes his hole filled beanie, pistol out as Rhodey and the kid still remain hidden in the other room. The man doesn’t check that room instead he turns towards the bathroom, back turned to all of them. Tony makes his move, darting back across the hall arms quickly placing the bandit into a chokehold. The man gasps in surprise, voice hoarse by the pressure around his neck. He drops his pistol, hands trying to claw their way free. They struggle for a few more moments, the bandit's body finally falling limp. 

Tony hides the body from eyesight, hand gesturing for Rhodey to move with him. He makes eye contact with Peter for a brief second, heart breaking at the tear-stained and red-rimmed eye state he caused. 

He presses on.

The group continues to work silently on the top floor, weaving around the rooms and making use of the joint bathroom connecting them. Tony doesn’t dare to look at the kid anymore, instead, he recklessly throws himself at other men putting himself in harm's way before Rhodey even stepped foot in the room.

_ He deserves it, after all, he made the kid cry. _

Peter ends up knocking out the last man with T’Challa’s brass knuckles. The black metal, breaking the man’s nose before the kid sent another blow to his face. The man’s body slumps to the floor completely out cold. Both men just stare at Peter's sudden outburst and the violence of said hits. 

“Uh,” Tony’s mouth goes dry, unsure what to even say. “Nice...job?”

“Whatever,” Peter huffs gesturing to the stairs. “Lead the way dick head.”

Rhodey sighs, whispering. “Kid-”

“No, no,” He stops his friend, trying to smile through the pain. “It’s fine.”

_ It really wasn’t. _

_ But he deserved it. _

Stealthy, they try to move down the stairs without being seen but some asshat decided just then to walk right out of the kitchen. Everyone freezes for a millisecond, the bandit opening his mouth to yell as Tony surges forward. He shoves the man against the wall, shiv jamming into his neck before he could utter a sentence. Blood splatters against the once pristine wallpaper, pooling onto the light brown carpet as the men slid to the floor. 

“Hey, Burch you find anything-” The woman bandit stops mid-sentence mouth agape before firing on them.

Bullets riddle the walls, the group separating and diving for some sort of cover. Rhodey mid-run shoots her in the shoulder before pulling the kid somewhere safe. Tony watches her stagger in pain, guard down just for enough time to grab his ax and swing. Their eyes meet, blade sinking in the side of her neck as the gun drops onto the hardwood. Blood spatters once more, the light gone from her eyes as she hits the floor limp. 

The house falls silent after that, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he slowly walks around the other areas of the house. After a few more minutes, he lets out a sigh of relief, some tension disappearing from his shoulders. 

“Alright,” He calls out wiping the blood off his ax and onto the dull white couch. He cringes slightly, mom’s voice echoing in his head about keeping the furniture pristine. “House is clear.”

Rhodey and Peter come out from the kitchen, both men giving each other a nod before his brother takes the lead. Shotgun raised, he slowly opens the door scoping out the porch as Peter lingers inside flexing his hand in pain. Tony glances down at the kid’s hand, noticing a dull bruise forming along his knuckles. Instantly he reaches out for the hand without realizing, only snapping out of his worried daze when the kid yanks his hand back.

“What are you doing?” Peter asks anger still there but not as present.

“I-” His brain betrays him, leaving him floundering for something to say. “Your hand-”

“What about it?”

“It looks like it-”

The kid cuts him off once more. “And why do you care?” He takes the brass knuckle off, stuffing it in his bag. He takes another step back, arms crossed against his chest, an unreadable amount of emotions flashing by on his face. “You clearly never did, so don’t try acting like it now.”

“Kid,” He tries to reach out for him one more time. Peter shakes his head shrinking in on himself. Tony, crestfallen stops in place, guilt eating him alive. “Look back there, that was not how I wanted this conversation to go.”

Peter scoffs. “No shit.”

“I want to apologize for what I said back there, that was out of line.” 

“Yeah well,” The kid bites his lip nervously. “You weren’t fond of me from the beginning.”

“Kid, it wasn’t like-”

_ I can’t lose another kid. _

“Then what was it like then? Because for weeks I really thought you were going to see this through and not drop me off to the next person like everyone else.”

“Peter-”

“No, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The kid stops him, eyes going glassy. “I get it okay? You didn’t want the orphan boy to begin with. I’ve been nothing but a burden. This isn’t the first time this happened.”

Tony’s mouth falls open, guilt fully plaguing him now. His actions caused this, his words made the kid feel like he wasn’t wanted. Who the hell didn’t want this kid? 

“Kiddo,” His voice is low and soft. “You're not a burden, but it's better-”

“All clear!” Rhodey yells from the outside. “Let’s get a move on!”

Peter adjusts his bag, walking to the front door only to be held back by Tony’s hand. The kid yanks his arm out of the grip, distancing himself once more.

“I’m tired of the excuses, cut the bullshit. I get it.”

“Pete, I’m trying to make this up-”

The kid whips his head around, eyes glowing with fury. “You know exactly how to make this up to me. I know too well I won’t see you again after this, just move on.”

Peter leaves in a huff, slamming the door in front of his stunned expression. Tony lingers only for a few more moments, legs carrying him forward as he swallows a growing lump in his throat. He pulls himself together opening the door. 

Rhodey gives him a sorry smile, patting him on the shoulder as the kid hops onto his stolen horse. Both men hop on their horses, his brother leading the way as Peter follows him out of the corral. He shares one more glance with the kid, only getting a glare in return before the horse trots away.

_ He’s already regretting this decision.  _

________

The journey back to the plant was less panicked and more centered around his dreaded self-doubt. All three of them rode in a line, the trip silent except for the animals around them. The sun slowly set in the sky, the horizon mixing with colors of oranges and pinks. Although their journey to find Peter seems shorter, they travel back at a normal pace letting him plenty of time to contemplate things. 

Tony didn’t dare speak to Peter while they rode back, already knowing that the kid wanted nothing to do with him. The kid had trusted him, had actually had hope that he was the one person who wouldn’t toss him to the side. And yet, he did the very thing that the kid hoped would never happen. Even if he went Rhodey, it still didn’t feel  _ right _ now that the plan was in motion. 

Many what-ifs went through his head, too many situations that stressed him out. He trusted Rhodey with his life but if they got into situations like before and he wasn’t there - Tony didn't know how to handle that. What if the kid needs him? What if the kid got hurt? What if the infected managed to overtake him? What if he has another asthma attack?

He’s been personally carrying half of the kid’s stash and now he's just supposed to hand it all to Rhodey, to tell him good luck and be on his merry way?

_ He couldn’t do that. _

_ He couldn’t- _

His eyes widen at the realization, knuckles turning white as he grips the reins tightly. 

_ He couldn’t leave his kid.  _

_ He needed to stay with him, to protect him. _

His mind went into a rabbit hole after that, replaying that stupid fight he started because he was too scared of himself. How he just rubbed off such an impactful and traumatic time in Peter’s life like it was nothing; like the kid didn’t matter to him. He was disgusted with himself, with how he acted.

He still had a chance to make things right, but would Peter forgive him?

Collecting his thoughts, the group came to a halt on the cliffside overlooking Rhodey’s actual camp. Purple now mixed in with the orange sky, heavy clouds creating a bit of darkness. Below, the actual camp was a series of neighborhood houses, two-layered walls protected by the electric fence mentioned earlier. Watchtowers lined the walls, each house within mimicking some form of life before all of this. 

The kid, now next to Tony, marvels at the sight below. His anger and sad expression turning to one of wonder. He glanced over to Peter, a fond smile forming before he even realized. Rhodey laughs at the kid’s expression and gestures to the whole place below them.

“And there she is,” His brother smiles proudly. “With the success of today, the kids will be watching movies tonight.” 

Tony takes one more look at the kid, changing the subject. “Where is this lab of theirs?”

Peter scoffs rolling his eyes, not understanding what was about to happen.

“It’s all the way out,” His friend replies. “University of Eastern Colorado.”

He laughs. “Go Big Horns.” He turns back to the kid playing with the hem of his jacket. “Hey, Pete, why don’t you give the horse back to Rhodey.”

Peter’s brows furrow, confused in why he was giving back the horse now. Tony didn’t answer him just yet, only turning to Rhodey as he pets the horse. 

“I’m gonna hang on to this fella if that’s alright with you.” Once more the kid just stares at him confused. “Go on, kid. We don’t need to take two of his horses to Colorado.”

The kid’s brows shoot up, body going upright as he stutters out a reply. “W-We? I’m sorry did you just say-”

Rhodey joins in with the kid. “Tones, what are you doing?”

“Well Valkyrie and Carol kinda scare me and I feel like they’ll hunt me down if I take you away from here.”

His brother finally getting it, hopes off his own horse smiling. “Don’t you dare think of leaving without hugging me goodbye fucker.”

Tony laughs. “No, we can’t have that.”

He hops off just as Peter’s boots hit the ground, the kid takes the reins leading the horse over to Rhodey with a shocked look. He stares at Tony, gaze lingering until he hands over the horse. 

“Uh, sorry for stealing your horse.”

“Eh, well Valkyrie’s horse,” His brother chuckles as the kid turns a light shade of pink. “She won’t mind, he needed a ride anyway.”

“Pete why don’t you hop on my horse, I’ll be a minute.”

“Uh-huh,” The kid nods, turning to him with a small smile. “Still a major dickhead but this is some process.”

He smiles back. “Noted.”

He turns back to Rhodey, a sly smirk on his face as he punches his shoulder playful. Both men laugh, his brother pulling him into another bone-crushing hug. Tony latches on with the same amount of strength, both knowing that they won’t be seeing each other for some time. No one speaks at first, seconds turning into minutes when Rhodey pulls away his arm pulling out something from his inside jacket pocket.

He pulls out the photo from earlier, bittersweet memories coming back. “Take it Tones,” His friend urges. “It’s yours, not mine.”

“I-” Tony pauses, fingertips a mere centimeter away from the photo. 

He gazes at Pepper’s face, hurt still lingering but not as apparent as before. There was a calmness that settled over him, a presence urging him to take the photo. He glances back at the kid, fumbling his way up to saddle like a toddler trying to climb onto a couch. Tony chuckles, gaze shifting back to the photo as his fingers skimmed across the faded image. He takes it this time, eyes almost welling up with tears.

In a haze of guilt and self-doubt, he never truly realized how his mind slowly forgot how Pepper looked. He would always remember her laugh, the way she smiled, or even how she loved throwing her hair up in a ponytail. But what he forgot was tiny freckles dancing across her nose and the laugh lines that appeared when she smiled. It was like his wife was still here, standing next to him making a dumb comment about his greying beard.

“Thank you,” He whispered back to his brother, fingers still skimming across. “I mean Rhodes, thank you.”

_ For the wake-up call. _

_ For everything. _

“That’s what I’m here for,” Rhodey laughs. “To make you second guess choices in an annoying brotherly way.”

Tony laughs tucking the photo away in the flannel pocket right above his heart. He pulls his brother in for another tight hug, almost wanting to drag him away on their little adventure. Two brothers, facing the world like they used to. But now, Rhodey had a camp to run, twenty families counting on his leadership with Carol and Valkyrie. 

“Uh,” The kid cuts in on their moment, sheepishly waving his hand to get their attention. “Hate to intrude on the bromance thing but Rhodey never really told us how to find said lab. And I don’t know about you but I rather not have Tony try to read a map again. His old man eyes can’t read small writing too well.”

Rhodey snorts loudly, bending over in laughter as Tony stares mouth agape and slightly offended. 

“Oi!” He points as the kid shrugs. “That map had faded writing and you know it!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Hey-”

His brother pats his shoulder, wiping a stray tear. “Kid’s got a point, Tones. You were never good at reading maps.”

“The  _ nerve  _ of you people,” He gasps as Peter tries to hide his laughter.

“Map reading aside,” Rhodey tries to rein them in, breaking every few seconds with a giggle. “The lab is in the science building, looks like a giant mirror. You can’t miss it.”

“Landmarks are obviously the best form of directions.”

“Because you can’t read-”

“Yes, I can!” Peter only disagrees with him, shrugging his shoulders in response. Tony finally takes a look at the sky, the day’s light growing darker by the minute. He sighs composing himself. “Sun’s getting low, we should probably get going.”

Rhodey nods solemnly, giving him one last hug before letting Tony hop back onto his horse. He takes the reins from the kid, whistling to get the horse ready to go. His brother hops back on his, a sad but proud smile forming. 

“There’s a place for you here, you know. When things wrap up, you're always welcomed back here.”

“I know,” He responds with a wet smile telling the horse to start moving. “Adios, platypus.”

“See you soon little brother.”

Both men part ways, journeys branching off into different paths. Tony glances back one more time, saluting his brother with a bright smile. 

_ They were going to see each other again.  _

_______

Although traveling from Boston to Wyoming was much longer than this trip, riding to the university was at least a three-day trip if they rode through the night. However, being in no sudden rush to get there, their trip ended up coming in around the five-day mark. The ride was uneventful, both of them taking in the mostly green forest watching the colors of the leaves change as they crossed over state lines. The weather grew cooler as the days went on, fall shifting into winter. 

Once in Colorado, they had to shift back over to once populated areas. Like the many cities they encountered, roads and other structures were overtaken by foliage. Shops and other houses were left in disarray by either the initial panic or looters leaving them few supplies to nag when passing by. Tony didn't mind the change, he needed to snag some heavier coats for both of them. His flannel wasn’t cutting it anymore and the kid’s windbreaker was best suited as a layering piece in these cooler days.

The tension from their fight still lingered between them, emotions coming to ahead that they didn't want to address. It was the elephant in the room, truly but Tony had no idea how to even start a conversation.

_ Hey, kid remember that fight we had?  _

_ Well, it stemmed from my past trauma of losing my wife and unborn child. Now I’ve grown attached to you and would probably die if something happened to you.  _

_ Yeah no. _

_ God, he was horrible at addressing touchy subjects.  _

So instead of getting past that troubling conversation, they instead talked about other things. Life before they met, simple things that the world enjoyed before the infected took over everything. This continued for most of their trip, pretty much right until they finally saw the grounds of the university campus.

The streets were mostly blocked by abandoned cars rusting away, leaving no space for a car to drive through. Roots from the horde of trees cracked the concrete from below; plantlife and other foliage consuming the sidewalks and buildings surrounding them. Street lamps stand broken, glass coverings and lightbulbs shattered on the group. The sun setting on the horizon of their fifth day, blue skies slowly mixing into the orange hues of a sunset. 

“Okay, let me see if I get it straight,” Peter says, hiding his face from the chilly breeze. He rests his head against Tony’s back, thin black gloves covering his fingers. They were on the subject of football, only because the ‘Big Horns’ posters drew his attention. “If you mess up your fourth down, then you give the ball to the other team?”

Another breeze goes by, sending a chill down Tony’s spine. The kid huffs behind him, taking the hood from his heavy crimson bomber jacket and pulling it over his face. Peter just latches onto even more once he’s done. 

“Now that you're comfortable,” He teases. “You're correct, it's called a turnover.”

“And if you clear the ten yards then you're back at…” The kid stops pondering for a minute. “First down?”

“Exactly.”

“Football is confusing,” Peter declares with a huff. “I don’t know why you even like it.”

“I know the rules,” He answers chuckling. “But doesn’t mean I like to play it, I would watch only because others would.”

“Let me guess, Rhodey dragged you to games?”

“Nah,” He smiles fondly at the memories. “My wife was a much bigger fan than he was. She would go crazy during the games, her whole family would actually.” 

It was odd talking about Pepper in front of Peter after spending all that time trying to hide her away. But after that argument with Rhodey, he realized that not talking about her, hiding her away only made his mind spiral more. His wife deserved to be remembered, to be talked about.

“She sounds nice.”

Tony sadly smiles. “Yeah, she was best.”

Finally, they round the corner into one of the UEC’s many entrances. The bricks stand decaying: road signs and security check-in falling apart. The campus stands in front of them, classrooms collecting dust as its window lay broken or boarded up. They trot around the parking lot, eyes scanning for a big mirror building Rhodey told them about. Nothing came from their search, only remains of traffic cones and trash cans catching their eye. 

“None of these buildings look like a mirror to me,” The kid lifts his head up fully searching around.

“We’ll uh,” Tony pauses, making out some of the directions on the campus sign. “We’ll head to central grounds, we should be able to see most of the campus from there.” He does another wary search of the grounds, tapping the feet on the side of his horse to get her to go. “Come on, girl.”

Peter chimes in. “Her name is Karen.”

“Please tell me why the horse has a human name.” 

“Not my fault  _ you _ forgot to ask Rhodey her name.”

“Ok but  _ Karen _ ?” He asks unamused. “How about Blaze, Spirit, I don’t know some Star Wars reference.”

“I thought about that but we sorta bonded and the name Karen came to me in a dream.”

“Oh my God.”

“ _What?_ She spoke to me!” 

Tony presses on, shaking his head trying to hide the smile tugging at his lip. They travel up an incline, Karen’s hooves clicking along the pavement as they come across a cluster of more buildings. He rides the horse into an open garage filled with spare parts, the kid was bugging to find. Peter perks up once he sees the workbench, already hopping off the horse before she came to a full stop. 

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we haven’t had any time to craft anymore nail bombs since Jackson County,” The kid responds, already dumping the contents of his bag out. “You try carrying pointy objects in your bag.”

He scoffs, fishing out another bag of metal he’s been carrying for God knows how long. “I already do, because you pick up every little gear.”

“Do the nail bombs save our asses or not?”

“Touche, Mr. Parker.”

The conversation ends there, both of them occupied by other tasks. Tony searches around the garage, eyes catching another door leading upward, he grows curious noting it before finishing searching the place. Peter hovers over a workbench, tongue sticking out as he lines three tin cans with pointy objects with some glue he cooked up one of their many stops along the way to Rhodey’s. He remembers the incident clearly, still impressed with how smart the kid was.

_ … _

_ Tony shuts the classroom door behind them, breathing heavily. Clicker bodies linger outside, more infected wandering the school grounds. He shoves a desk in front of the door, legs taking him to windows and shutting all the curtains. The sun disappeared behind the stormy skies, further trapping them inside. It was supposed to be a quick shortcut, only to have some asshats explode something nearby drawing all the freaks out of the woodwork. They were stuck, forced to hunker down in the chemistry lab for the night.  _

_ He was pissed but the kid was already occupied with something else.  _

_ Peter hums to himself, flashlight on his backpack strap giving him light as he reads through his notebook. The kid works around the room, grabbing supplies and other chemicals from the cabinet.  _

_ “What are you doing?” He stares, shutting the last curtain as a few clickers sprint towards gunfire in the distance. _

_ “Chemistry,” The kid shrugs. “I’ve been playing with an idea for a while but needed the right stuff to make it.” _

_ Tony moves over to his notebook snatching it up and reading through the contents. He cocks a brow, studying the pictures drawn next to each chemical. _

_ “Web Fluid?” _

_ “Super sticky substance to hold the nail bombs together,” The teen answers, taking the notebook back. “Potentially, when it goes off, I can trap the people or get infected in their spot. Like a spider capturing her prey in her web.” _

_ “You're taking this nickname too seriously.” _

_ “Whatever Iron Man, be useful and hand me the breaker.” _

_ …  _

“So these places…” Peter’s voice draws him out of his daze. The kid fumbles with smaller containers filling them with the web fluid he made weeks ago. He mentions something about sticky bombs, dead set on getting them to work. “People would live here and just study? Even though they were all grown up?

Tony frowns at that comment, disappointed that a kid as bright as Peter wouldn’t have a chance to attend college. The boy was a walking prodigy already improving his own old designs and making his own. He could see him attending MIT, knocking teachers out of the water with his knowledge. 

He finally answers. “Yeah, it was for people to study, party, find themselves. It allowed people to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives.”

“Man, I wish I could experience it,” The kid sighs. “All my old teachers would just give me books and tell me to figure it out. They couldn’t handle my constant questions.”

“Well they’re just assholes,” He affirms eyes glancing back to the open door. “I’m going to scope out the upper floor, stay here.”

“I’ll watch Karen, don’t worry.”

“Still hate the name,” He calls out walking up the metal stairs.

“Too bad, old man!”

A quick jaunt up the stairs, Tony finds himself on a rooftop staring at the remains of a sniper nest. Lawn chairs sit out, crates at both sides acting as tables for their beer bottles. Lanterns lay broken, a log laying under the shattered glass. He flips through the notepad, the day's events and incoming people written down in detail. 

**10/5**

**6 guys from H.Q. IN**

**_Takes 6 guys to deliver one truck? Must be worse out there than I remember._ **

**Supply delivery from H.Q. IN**

**_BTW, snagged two apples from one of the crates. Left you one, enjoy._ **

**\---**

**12/20**

**1** **Scientist** **Biologist from San Francisco. IN.**

**_Guy’s a real asshole. Watch out for him._ **

**3 new recruits as an escort. IN.**

**_At least they wished me a Merry Xmas. Didn't feel like telling them I was Jewish_ ** **.**

**\---**

**2/22**

**10 crates from UT hospital (lotta lab stuff). IN.**

**4 veterans wrangling supplies. OUT.**

**_Lot more mouths to feed with all those scientists_ **

**\---**

**6/12**

**3 doctors. OUT.**

**_No idea why they left..._ **

**2 recruits. OUT.**

**_John said something about "scouting," but for what?_ **

**\---**

**8/20**

**4 10-ton trucks and a flatbed. IN.**

**1 personnel carrier truck. IN.**

**2 veteran drivers. IN.**

**4 recruit drivers. IN.**

**_The new blond captain guy was giving me eyes. I hope he sticks around. BTW, what's with all the commotion? Is anyone going to tell us what's going on?_ **

The log ends there, left on an ominous note that didn’t give him too much faith. Clearly most of the outskirts of the campus were left untouched. Did they close ranks, shift gears to another place? Either way, Tony didn’t like the feeling he got from this place. They needed to find some answers and get out of here quickly.

He turns back to the garage, finding the kid in the same place he left him. Peter glances up, cleaning up his mess, holding up the smaller container in triumph.

“Behold, sticky bomb Mark Three!”

“What happened to one and two?” He asks, eyes just catching the mess of web fluid all over the floor. 

“Well...there were some mishaps.”

“Already sticky boy, let’s get a move on,” He laughs and walks over to Karen. He hops back onto the saddle, helping the kid up as they travel back outside. “Good news is that there were signs of an Avenger sniper nest. We're heading in the right direction.”

“Hopefully this lab of theirs is intact, I wanna see if I can improve the web fluid.”

Tony playfully reaches behind him, ruffling the kid’s curls before yanking his hood down. Peter chuckle, swatting his hand away. They both laugh, heading towards another building with more space for Karen to travel through. 

They reach a sort of admin building, structure standing with a gaping hole in the front. Karen fits inside easily, most of the desks and other furniture cleared away for an unknown reason. They head into the hall, tall ceilings still holding up the decaying structure. 

“How many people do you think are there?” Peter asks, biting his lip nervously. “Avengers, I mean.”

“Well, I guess it takes quite a crew to run this operation.”

“Including other people my age?”

He frowns, their fight days ago replaying in his. He recounts the list, that last line that Peter couldn’t finish. The kid was missing kid’s his own age, he didn’t ask to be thrown in a cross country trip. Peter deserved to still be a kid, to enjoy time with people his own age. 

“I’m not sure.”

They turned the corner, coming to a halt as the gate blocked their way to the next area. Tony hopes off, hands pushing the rusty gate to the side. The metal contracted, screeching as it fought against being pushed. Midway through, Karen let’s out a panicked nay causing him to stop.

He turns trying to settle the horse. “Whoa, whoa. Whoa,” He shushes, glancing around the hall. “What is it, girl?”

Karen only panics some move, backup as Peter shushes her. Runner screeches echoing from the other room. They both paused, eyes glancing behind them as the infected snarls continue. 

“Sounds like runners,” The kid says, moving to hop off until Tony stopped him.

“Stay with the horse. I’ll go check it out.”

Peter starts to protest only to be cut off by Tony shutting the gate in front of him. “Are you sure?” He whispers, giving him a look.

“ _ Yes _ . I don’t want her to run off.” He stares ahead into the room, watching a few infected heads hobble by the windows above. He turns to the kid, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back. 

He takes off towards the side stairs stealthy moving trying to get an idea on just how many infected were around. His bad feeling comes true, already knowing that these freaks were probably former Avengers. Halfway up the stairs, he sees another split level leading to different halls and rooms. Tony sighs, ax at the ready for any freaks trying to sneak up on him.

He sneaks around the side to the level with windows he saw from below. He stops right at the edge inching into the room lined with bookshelves. He listens to the freaks inside the other side of the wall, runners mixing with the snarling clicks of clickers. Tony switches from his ax to his bow, cursing silently at the added factor of clickers. 

When he finally does get a decent look inside the other room lined with desks, he watches at least eight freaks hobble about. Runners lingered in the middle, mostly forming to the back as they jerked erratically. Three clickers stayed towards the front, blind spore filled eyes not noticing him. 

Tony raises his bow, lining up his arrow for the farthest clicker. He waits a few more seconds, letting the arrow fly right into the freaks skull. The clicker screeches as it slumps to the floor, five runners and the two clickers hobbling over to the source of the noise. They all collectively snarl at each other, giving him enough time to fetch a Molotov and chuck it towards the group. The flames cause a series of more screeches all freaks stupid running into the flames expecting some sort of meal. 

All the five runners scream as they succumbed to the flames, yells still resembling those of humans. It almost makes Tony feel bad for them until an unnatural clicker screeches as the flames overtake it. The infected weren’t human anymore, they were hungry freaks with no actual brains to function. The flames finally go out, leaving one last clicker in the room hobbling around unfazed. Once it hobbles over into his view, he fires another arrow killing the last freak. 

He steps inside the room, trying his hardest not to inhale the lingering smell of burnt infected. Even after twenty years, he still can’t get over the smell no matter how hard he tries. Once giving the room a proper check, his guard drops, thankful there was only a small group up here. Beside him, he notices a generator sitting by the more bookshelves. He fires it up without a second thought, figuring it would probably help him later.

Tony leaves the split level after that, jogging down the stairs to find the kid leading Karen through the gate. She seems calmer, trotting more freely than she was. Peter still leading the horse walks over to the bookshelves sighs as he scans the books. 

“They’re all yearbooks,” The kid mutters. “This place needs better variety.”

“Yeah well,” He starts, some type of device catching his eye. “Twenty years isn’t that great on books.” He doesn’t hear the kid’s next comment, eyes too fixated on the weapon laying against the table. Tony lets out a whistle, marveling at the object. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

This grabs Peter 's attention, eyes widen once he sees the weapon as well. “A flamethrower?!” He gawks running over with Karen in tow. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen one of these since Boston. Nat was carrying one around like this all the time.”

Tony nods amused, mind thinking back to the time he and Maria discovered a bunch of burnt military vehicles. He chuckles, fully knowing that this woman was someone you didn’t mess with when it came to her group. Weapon be damned, she’ll kill your ass before you could blink.

“I’ve always wanted to try one.”

That makes his eyes nearly bug, arms holding the weapon away from the kid. “Oh no, no.” He starts shaking his head in protest. “You can use a gun but this? Fire is not for you kid.”

Peter's eyes narrow, hand resting on his hip. “Says the man who almost burned his eyebrows off because he dropped a Molotov right next to him.” 

“I-” He pauses knowing the kid got him there. “The clicker cornered me…”

“It was actually a manikin you knocked over.”

“Not my finest moment.”

“No shit.”

“Fine,” He gives in as the sassy teen smirks. “But you're not using it until you have proper practice with it.”

“I’ll agree to disagree.”

“Oh my God.”

Peter snorts loudly as he ignores him walking over to the electrified gate. He glances at the note beside it, reading the post written in messy handwriting. 

_ Had to rig up the door to the generator upstairs. PLEASE use it sparingly! We’re running out of gas.  _

Tony cheers silently at his intuition upstairs, it saved him another trip back upstairs. He crumbles up the note looking out into the overgrown campus. He smirks, yanking open the control panel and flicking the switch. The gate leading to the outside goes up much easier, no freaks reacting to the noise. 

“You know,” Peter says petting Karen. “If I had the chance to go to school like this, I would probably go into the science field, maybe the engineering field.”

He smiles at the comment, watching the kid ramble on about how hard it is for him to choose. “You know you can double major?”

The kid gawked at him once more. “Really?!”

“That’s what I did.”

Peter urges him on as they walk onto the campus grounds. “Now you gotta tell me what you studied.”

Tony takes in the sight, already seeing his fifteen-year-old self being dropped off by Jarvis. He remembers the fear and annoyance he felt, mumbling how he didn’t even want to major in business but his father made him. The only thing he was happy about was getting away from his father just for a little bit, far away at MIT. 

“Electrical Engineering and Business,” He replies. “And once I graduated, I went back and got Master's degrees in Electrical Engineering and Physics.”

“So did you have your own business before?”

“I mean yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Pepper and I were CEOs.”

“Wow,” The kid marvels. “So this business, what was it called, what was based around, were you successful?” 

_ It was a multibillion-dollar company… _

_ So yeah, it was. _

“It was called Stark Industries,” He starts fond memories of his Stark Tower standing among the skyline. “We mostly were a tech company that expanded the field and helped those in need. I would say it was pretty successful.”

“Damn,” The kid responds, following him up a set of stairs leading to the central campus. “And here I thought you were some construction worker.”

He laughs. “I’m sorry what now?”

“Well, you knew some much about the plant so it just figured-” Peter stops the sentence, mouth falling open. He gasps, excitedly running down the stairs pointing. “Monkeys!”

In the center grounds, five monkeys ran about chasing each other as they swung between lamp posts. Tony just watches the kid switch gears, eyes already marveling at another interesting thing. He only laughs, realizing that the kid truly never got out much in his fifteen years. But in this case, monkeys were still a strange sight to see.

When he meets back up with the kid, now leading Karen, the monkeys run towards the building climbing upward. “First time seeing a monkey.”

“First time,” The teen smiles. 

Tony glances at the setting sun, hating that he couldn’t just spend all his time talking about random things with Peter. But they had a job to do and this place still wasn’t as secure as he liked it to be. 

“Hate to cut things short, but we should find this building.”

Peter snaps out of his daze. “Oh yeah, the lab. I forgot about that.”

The kid heads back over to Karen, following Tony as he hopes back on the horse. They ride off to the left, passing the large buildings when moments later they discover a cluster of Avenger symbols. They were markers, almost indications, that they were here. They both share a knowing look, riding as far as they could until another gate stopped them.

Tony hopped off the horse first, eyes just catching the top of the building they were searching for. The upper windows glared in the remaining light, a mere few feet away beyond this gate. He looks around for another generator, eyes scanning around to find the same red device on the  _ other _ side. He curses glancing around for another way around, his eyes fall to the door leading into the dorm building. The upper part packed in with chairs and metal objects. 

He turns to tell the kid to stay here only to find him tieing Karen to the gate. Peter gives him another look crossing his arms. 

“Do you actually think I’m going to let you in a building by yourself?”

“You're gonna follow me anyway aren’t you?”

“We’re a team,” Peter affirms. “And teammates don’t let each other go into unknown buildings alone.”

Tony gives in trying to hide the fact that the team comment made his heart grow. “Fine, but you stay with me ok? We don’t know what’s in there.”

“Hopefully really nice Avengers?”

“Have you met Steve?”

“He’s nice to me!”

He rolls his eyes, crouching under the debris and into an unknown dorm building. 


	18. Some Look for Trouble While Others Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s situations like these, that make Tony realize just how much the world went to shit.
> 
> Stepping foot inside the dorm building, he couldn’t quite shake the nerves bubbling within him. There was nothing that stood out, just another sight of decaying buildings left to ruins. It was all the same in the end, dusty places with the same broken walls and floors. There was always a sense of panic left in untouched places, people-less pictures that told a thousand stories that ended with the same things.
> 
> Death, decay, destruction.
> 
> A never-ending cycle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload, it just hit me that I never posted last night lmao...Enjoy lol ;)
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore, guns, death, and alcohol

It’s situations like these, that make Tony realize just how much the world went to shit.

Stepping foot inside the dorm building, he couldn’t quite shake the nerves bubbling within him. There was nothing that stood out, just another sight of decaying buildings left to ruins. It was all the same in the end, dusty places with the same broken walls and floors. There was always a sense of panic left in untouched places, people-less pictures that told a thousand stories that ended with the same things.

Death, decay, destruction.

A never-ending cycle.

However, once they managed to get to the second floor, Tony knew exactly why this building was so unsettling. It was like a wave of nostalgia washed over him breaking through the mess of the dorm hallway. Papers scattered about, vending machines and tables pushed against the windows. The building was much eerier than the outside, dim making every inch look like a scene from a horror movie. 

And yet, through the madness, he is still able to picture him and Rhodey from their college days leaning against the vending machine without a care in the world. Back then, they were two kids trying to find their place, trying to find themselves. They used to be like the students here, young adults just trying to figure out their lives only to have the world implode around them. 

It was an eerie feeling, but nothing solidified it until Peter started looking through the dorm rooms. 

The rooms only showed more of what the world used to be, remnants mostly untouched. Pictures still hung on walls, faded yet showcasing all of the young kid’s smiling faces. Some were romantic, some laughable, but all of what should still be. The only things that broke the illusion were the scattering of weapons and hordes of rotten food. Students were holed up here, trying their best to fend off the growing numbers of freaks. 

The kid mindlessly wanders to another room through the adjoining bathroom, sad eyes lingering on the many photos of two people clearly together. The pictures showcased their lives, all happy memories detailed across the walls. A note is tacked to the peeling paint, blue ink contrasting with the yellow lined paper. They study it, details of the students' struggles coming to life. 

**01/18**

**_Nine goddamn months of waiting, and still, nothing. No word from anyone. Found some additional cans of food in the dining commons, but they won't last. Had an incident at the eastern hall barricade but everything's still secure._ **

**_I haven’t seen Lincoln in days…_ **

**_\---_ **

**01/31**

**_I caught a glimpse of a group of those things running around. I saw one that looked like Lincoln. Maybe it WAS Lincoln._ **

**_Fuck…_ **

**_\---_ **

**02/25**

**_Food almost out, and everyone fighting over the last rations. Someone's going to have to go into town and get more supplies. It's probably going to be me._ **

**_If I don’t come back remember me as I was not as those freaks._ **

**_\- Daisy Johnson_ **

Peter studies the note then the photos a few moments longer, turning to Tony with a frown. “Was it nice?”

His brow furrowed. “What was?”

“Love, a relationship,” The kid gestures to the photos. “I see it in old photos, somehow in today’s shitshow and yet-” He pauses fingers glossing over a Star Wars pin on his backpack strap. “I never truly got to experience it.”

_ "But the worst one was Ned, my boyfr-" _

The phrase replays in Tony’s head, their fight still lingering with unanswered questions. He watches Peter compose himself, knowing all too well what it looked like hiding behind an invisible mask. He takes a breath, deciding to push the subject.

“Do you mean with Ned?”

The kid’s head snaps up, eyes going wide as his fingers clenched into fists. “Let’s not-”

“Back at the ranch, you said-”

“ _ Tony,” _ The kid begs him, eyes glassy. “ _ Please. _ ”

Silence fills the room, as Peter through shaky breaths tries to compose himself. Tony stares at the kid, heartbreaking at the sight of the boy trying to push the emotions way down. It was a coping tool he used for years, a tool that only fueled his demons more. He and the kid were alike in many ways, some things he wished weren’t instilled in Peter. His mind yells at him to break the cycle; heart and brain actually working together for once. The weight of his body shifts to his toes, legs closing the distance between them, hands reaching and-

_He hugs him_ , pulling him close until he can rest his cheek on the kid’s head.  His arms wrap around him tightly, free hand at the nape of his neck brushing through Peter’s mop of curls. The kid lets out a shaky breath into his chest, warm tears staining his flannel. They linger there for a few more moments, Tony finally whispering out a question.

“Too much?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.”

_ For the rude comments, their fights, for everything.  _

“But so you know,” He continues, voice low. “I’m not leaving, I’m always gonna be here.”

_ And that was a promise.  _

Peter sniffles. “I know.”

They linger for a few more seconds before pressing on down the corridor of many more empty dorm rooms.

________

It was only three rooms later that Tony noticed the greenish haze of spores coming to the end of the hall. He halts immediately, quickly grabbing his mask before he continues any further. Peter unfazed by the spores, slowly walked up to source leading him towards the gaping hole in the floor. Below them stood another floor, spore clouds growing the thicker the closer they got. 

They both look at each other, silent weapons in hand as they jump into the room below. They land with a small thud, green cloud thick and covering the surrounding room. Clickers immediately sound off, jarring snarls and clicks filling the area. Their shadowy forms hobble about, spores making the visibility sparse.  Silently, Tony uses hand gestures to direct the kid towards the other rooms with the least amount of sounds. They had a process down by now, weeks of traveling together to create a nonverbal method of taking down freaks. 

Stealthy, they take weave around the decaying floor working from the outside in. They follow a clicker into an abandoned dorm room, eyes watching as figure halts and twitches. He pulls a shiv from his belt, arms wrapping around the freak before sending a blade into its neck. Blood spatters as it rasps out one last snarl, body slumping to the floor. They stayed still, listening to the voices around them; only moving when the clickers didn’t come running inside. Peter takes out the next freak with his switchblade, small form already pouncing on the creature before it could even act. 

It goes down quickly and they press on. 

Below the dorm rooms are a complete mess, full decay taking place in this spore infected mess. Bullets riddle the walls, a forever image of students or whoever trying to fight whatever was down here. 

It was only when they came back towards the main source of the sounds, that they discovered three clickers hobbling around pretty close to one another. They start to use the hole filled walls to their advantage, sneaking passes the hobbling freaks and the big ass spore flower blooming at the center of one of the dorms. At least three infected laid there, bodies contoured and showing no human qualities as their forms morphed into a freak show. 

Dodging the clickers, they both let out a sigh of relief, working towards the end of the spore infected hall. The walls outside are lines with more spores, growing fungus taking over the place from within. They move forward only an inch when a deeper growl catches their attention. Their heads snap over in sync, eyes widening at the sight of a bloater letting its spores grow into the mess around it. It doesn’t move, only swaying and twitching with an eerie snarl. 

Tony just frantically gestures the kid over to the exit, signaling for them to get the hell out of here before that thing realizes they were there. Sure it was stuck now but that didn’t mean the freak couldn’t lift its foot and charge at them. Peter is the first to try the wooden door, splitting wood barely budging from the heavy weight on the other side. 

“Shit, Tony,” He hisses just as the bloater's head picks up.

A deep guttural growl echoes down the hall, large spore form twisting its body from the fungus. They both push against the door, panic washing over them as the freak free’s himself in a matter of seconds. It hobbles over: growls hungry and menacing all like before. They continue to fight against the door, clickers now hobbling over to see what was making the sound. Tony cursing, shoves all his weight into the door, loosening just enough to push the kid through. Peter holds the door back for him allowing him to dive through right before the bastard could nab him. 

Breathing heavily, they scramble to put the vending machine against the door. They slam it into place, bodies jolting as the bloater slams into the blocked door with a fury. Tony instinctively yanks the kid away from the door, body acting as a shield. Silently, he leads him back up the stairs to the safe, non spore filled second floor. He rips off his mask once they block the other door for good measure, sweat just starting to appear on his forehead. 

“Shit,” Peter heaves. “That was intense.”

“No kidding,” He responds, pulling him towards the exit sign that leads to the outside. “I rather go hang with the monkeys.”

Just as quickly as they got inside, they were back outside on the other side of the gate. The kid hurries down the steps spiriting towards Karen. The kid reaches through the bars, petting her and praising her for not moving. Tony, on the other hand, gets to work on the generator, fooling around with the wires until they are plugged into the control panel. He revs the generator up as Peter unties the horse from the gate’s bars, soothing her as it rises. 

The kid then leads Karen forward, giving him the reins as they jump back into the horse. They trot around the campus for a few feet, Peter striking up a conversation as the sun got lower. 

“So those clickers, do you think they were students or Avengers?”

“With that amount spores and the bloater,” He cringes just thinking about it. “They all had to be former students.”

They ride through another gated section, turning the corner to reveal the beginning of an Avenger set up. 

“But why have infected so close to the lab?”

“Well, I mean Bruce used them as a form of defense,” He offers. “Maybe they’re doing the same.”

They ride closer to the camp set up, eyes scanning over the rather abandoned settlement that should be teeming with Avengers. Tents stand in rows, sniper nests set around the four corners for protection. Everything around them looks old, decaying structures overtaken by foliage. The kid’s mood sours, already thinking what he thought the moment he saw runners. 

The Avengers were long gone, either dead or off somewhere else. But they came this far, they had to at least see where the hell they would run off to. 

Together, they search the camp for basic supplies and any indications. Both of them noticing the lack of important supplies such as guns, food, and medical gear. Clearly most of the group had left but that still didn’t mean there wasn’t some remnant of the group inside the lab. They press on, eyes watching as the chilly wind brings in dark grey clouds blocking most of the sun. It looks like a storm is brewing, no clear indication of when it will start.

Turning one last corner, they stumble across the side of the lab. Solar panels give power to the street lamps and lights outside, shining on the last gate blocking them from their destination. They both hop off Karen, walking towards the gate as Peter points upward.

“Look,” The kid gestures to a small hole in the side. “I think that’s our way in.”

“Nice spot kiddo,” He says trying to open the gate. It doesn’t move, heavy and too rusted for him to push. “All we need to do is get through this gate.”

The kid hums in agreement, breaking off from Karen as he searches around himself. Tony with his back faced to the kid, wonders if they could just climb it. He almost does until he realizes that they still needed a way up to the hole a few feet above them. Thinking of a plan, he walks away from the gate to Karen wondering if she could act as a stepping stool. 

However, his plans all come to a halt when the dumbass kid comes flying down the incline on the back of a dumpster cheering. Peter shrieks as he picks up speed, crashing into the gate as it’s door flies open. The dumpster comes to a stop a mere few inches away from  _ impacting  _ the brick wall. 

Tony’s left eye twitches. “Are you out of your mind?!” He squawks, rushing over to the kid with Karen in tow.

Peter only cheers adrenaline pumping through him. “That was  _ amazing!” _

“Again,” He repeats. “ _ Are you out of your mind?!” _

_ God, he sounds like Pepper.  _

“I got the gate open didn’t I?”

“ _ Peter Parker _ -”

“ _ Tony Stark _ ,” The kid mocks back gesturing to the dumpster then the hole above. “We needed a way through the gate and a stepping tool. I got us both in a badass way.”

“More like a dumbass way.”

The kid ignored him, too proud of his plan. “Killed two birds with one Goddamn stone.”

He sighs, after internally screaming for an eternity. “Just get your reckless ass over here and tie Karen to a lamp post or something.”

“This reckless and  _ smart _ ass just saved us time.”

“ _ Peter _ .”

“ _ Tony.” _

“I may just kill you.”

Peter only smirks leading Karen over to a lamp post. “Love to see you try.”

Tony scoffs at his comment, giving him the finger before dragging the dumpster far away from the reckless boy. He lines the dumpster up against the old tractor-trailer, using the rusted thing as stepping stool up to the rooftop. Once Karen was secure, the kid was walking back over following suit as they hopped onto the landing with the solar panels. With another jump, he pulls himself upward and through the hole giving one glance to the room they stand in. 

“Alright, we’re inside.” He huffs, joints protesting as he offers a hand down towards the kid. 

Peter’s tiny figure stares at him from below, a cocky smirk appearing. “I can make the jump.”

“You're shorter than me Spider-Man, just give me your hand kiddo.”

“It’s your back, Iron Man.”

“Very funny,” He huffs, taking the kid's hand and helping him scale up the side of the wall.

Once the kid gets over, he’s able to take in the trashed state of the classroom. Paint peeled off the walls, tile floors cracked and chipped all over. Dust lingers from the caved-in drywall, desks flipped over and taken apart for extra wood.  Peter _being well Peter_ , draws smiley faces through the dust giggling like it was the funny shit in the world. Once he was done drawing in the dust, he wiped his hands on his pants before placing them on his hips. 

“Shall we look around?”

“You done drawing in the dust?”

“You done being a scourge?”

Tony playfully shoves him, pressing on into the dimly lit lab.

________

For what seems like an eternity, they search through the rooms of the lab. Classrooms and labs lay messy, rooms in all forms of decay. Old strobe lights light up the halls, the kid’s half-assed attempt of whispers echoing down the empty corridors. The place is abandoned, by all means, dust settling on tabletops and door handles with no indication of human life around. 

They check out a balcony overlooking the grounds, Peter leaning over the railing with a defeated sigh. A breezy blow leaves off the branches, a swirl of orange leaves the only movement they see in a few minutes. The kid sighs on more time, voice echoing into the campus.

“Yoohoo, Avengers? Cure for mankind over here!” Obviously no one responds, a defeated pout returning as his voice lowers. “Anyone…?”

Tony pulls him back inside, frustrated by the lack of Avengers even here. There was barely an indication of a settlement here, only broken remains that would have looked like any old mess for people passing through. 

“Let’s keep it down until we figure out what’s going on,” He tells the pouting boy.

The last thing they needed was a pack of freaks hearing the kid’s voice. Sure they could handle a cluster of infected but that was on their terms not when freaks come surging from nowhere. Peter nods, arms crossed as they walked further into the lab. 

Throughout the rooms, they take what they can find: replenishing their supplies and gear. There wasn’t much that was left but at this point any little thing they could take lessened the frustration. After spending months traveling up here, thousands of miles crossing state lines to find an abandoned lab was not how they wanted things to go. Obviously, Avenger settlements were out there just much fewer than they were in their heyday. At this point it was a matter of finding the next location, even toying with the possibility of trekking back to Rhodey. 

Natasha and Steve truly know how to keep their settlements hidden even if their followers spray paint a shit ton of propaganda wherever they go. 

By the time they reach another part of the lab, they stumble into a reception area. Bins and files all scattered along the desk; some crumbled or half hazardously put away. Peter, getting some spark of hope in his eye, searches through the leftover bins. As the kid sorts away through the files, Tony scans through the mess left on the desk. Clipboards of people and medical terms he barely understood. And when he did understand something, half of the page would be blacked out in ink, nothing readable but the shit he doesn’t have time to learn. Sure he had his doctorate, but he was a medical doctor. He still presses on, reading through the terms and familiar equations hoping for a sense of direction. 

After a few more moments, the kid sighs in frustration. “Nothing useful, mostly rations, guns, and medical stock.” He picks up a couple of folders, shifting through. “And a bunch of medical terms I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, nothing here but a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo,” He responds. “Nothing focused on the cure, just a bunch of redacted elements.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Looks like they all just packed up and left in a hurry,” He sighs, pointing to a few redacted pages, mostly scribbled in messy lines. “But still had enough time to block out things they couldn’t bring.”

A loud metal clang startles both of them, more commotion echoing from above. Silently they stare at the stairs leading upward, an uneasy feeling settling in the room. They weren’t alone after all and they just can’t ignore it this time. They had a goal in mind and the stairs leading upward might hold that key. 

Tony looks at the kid, voice low. “Stay with me ok?”

“Got it.”

Slowly, they travel upstairs into another empty room. More bins and papers lay about, all mostly burnt or waterlogged for them to even read. They share a look, both still on guard as they stealthy leave that room using the connecting balconies to travel around the floors easier. Once they enter a new hallway, they’re met with more labs set up. Carts and equipment still set up as a few desks line the halls. Nothing appears in this new section, no bodies laying on the ground or reanimated into freaks. 

“So no bodies...yet,” Peter whispers to him, glancing around the space. “That’s good right?”

“Still have to find out where they went.”

“Right, still that factor.”

Guard still up, they scavenged what they can find working through the messy rooms set up for testing. Old textbooks, test tubes, and tatter papers lay ruined across the floors; remnants of some settlement still lingering. Finally, after making no process on this floor, they stumble upon a tarped off section. Yellow lining telling people to keep out, as hazmat suits torn and old lay to the side. Tony barely moves the tarp an inch, more movement echoing down the blocked off halls. They pause, weapons drawn before they go inside the section truly meant for testing. 

What they find doesn’t change the norm too much, only instead of more student lecture rooms, there is a cold metal atmosphere to these. Other medical equipment line the walls and carts, scrubs left beside the multiple pointy tools. An X-Ray machine lays shattered, developed scans left depicting some freak with spores growing out of its head. They study the image, cringing as any normal human features look distorted as the spores grow literally from the brain stem out. 

“I'm just going to put it out there,” Peter states, pointing to the images with disgust. “I’m so glad I can’t turn into  _ that. _ ”

“Trust me kiddo, no one wants to look like a spore monster.”

“No shit but obviously-”

Another loud clang comes from the room right next to them. The kid stops talking, eyes trained on the slightly ajar door that the sound echoes from. Tony readies his ax, fingers just grazing the door as the rustling counties. Some odd squeak follows, both of their nerves shot as the door finally opens to reveal…

_ A monkey. _

_ A Goddamn monkey sifting through trash. _

The animal makes another noise, tail shooting up as it stares at them in surprise. It scurries away as its other friends hop from down from their hiding places, sprinting into the other room while carrying odd items. Glass shatters as they flee, more squeaks and chaos following them as they run. 

“Well,” Tony sighs, not knowing to be relieved or annoyed. “At least it’s not clickers.”

Peter follows with a sigh, walking into the room still defeated. “No Avengers either.” He kicks the trash can out of the way scanning the room of empty cages. “Maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we’ll find something.”

And they do alright, it's just the monkey shit that these lovely creatures decided to throw onto the walls. The room follows suit with the smell, unclean cages not helping the case of the literal shitshow they walked into. They left the room quickly after that, thankful that the monkeys decided to take their business outside and not through any more rooms. 

They reach an office at the end of the countless labs; old doors dented and barely opening. Tony struggles against it, metal screeching as the dented frame finally moves. With one last heave, it opens enough to get through, door leaving black marks along the titles. He stares at the dented metal wondering what the hell happened until he heard a gasp from the kid. His gaze shifts to the large desk in front of them the contents messy as the others but with one actual outlier: _a body._

A skeleton to be exact, a male's body rotting away in a chair for years leaving nothing but his bones and worn clothes. Avengers symbols cover the letterman jacket, pendant still hanging around his neck. He moves closer, eyes taking in the self-inflicted gunshot wound in his head and gun still in his boney fingers. Peter's eyes linger a few moments longer, legs then taking him over to the mess of files in the far corner of the office. 

Tony scans the room fully now, stumbling upon a tape recorder collecting dust. He picks the device up, blowing the dust off hoping the thing still works. He presses the play button, the dead man's voice filling the room like he was still there.

“This is Doctor Stephen Strange,” The man sighs with no real life to his tone. All forms of life left him, a defeated ramble following suit. “If you're looking for the Avengers, they’ve all left.”

Peter scoffs still flipping through folders. “Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m dead,” He continues with no real emotion. “Or I will be soon, guess I got some time to reflect.” 

Tony muffles a groan of annoyance trying not to be disrespectful but they had many more important things to figure out. He presses fast forward on the device, high pitch audio coming out until he stops.

“...been years that felt like were…”

He presses it again.

“...fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-”

Tony cuts that sentence short before the kid could hear it, mind questioning the same thing. How sure were the Avengers that Peter could be the end all be all to this infection? He knew the kid prided himself on this task and the last thing he wanted was some asshole doctor doing tests on him that won’t do anything.

“...not gonna do this anymore…”

Peter stops sifting through papers, taking a seat near a nearby rolly chair. He spins around, listening to Tony muttered some curses as the man rambled on about his life and regret. He hits the forward button once more, praying for something. 

“...looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City.” Both their eyes go wide as they high five each other. “You’ll find them there, still trying to save whatever left of the world.”

_ Salt Lake City, ok that was some progress. _

“Do you know where that is?” The kid asks standing up with hope back in his eyes. 

“Uh,” He vaguely remembered some tech conference he did drunk, somehow managing to woo people involved. “I know the city.”

“Is it far?”

“It’s not close but on horseback--” Tony stops when a flicker of light catches his eye from the large window. 

His eyes narrow, body moving closer to the as the flicker of light shines between the tree outside. It flickers from below, beam moving back and forth before settling at an upward position.

“What?” The kid asks following the light himself. “Avengers?”

The light stops moving, fully focused on them. The beam grows bright, a figure finally appearing behind the light. Tony’s brain kicks into gear, eyes going wide as he recognizes where the light was mounted on: _a gun._ He yanks the Peter towards him, pulling him to the ground as a shot rings out. The glass splinters from the impact of the bullet, the wall indented with the shot meant for them. 

Still on the floor, the kid huddles against the desk, panic edged on his face. “Who fuck are those guys?!" 

“It doesn't matter,” He huffs crouching his way over to the door. “We know where to go. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

________ 

Although it was just one person shooting at them from below, Tony knew too well that one gun-wielding asshole meant a couple of his other asshat buddies. It’s a common factor with big areas like this, groups trying to loot the place for themselves without a care for other people trying to get by. And this fact came to tuition when some machete-wielding old man surged at them with a righteous fury. 

He was quickly taken care of by Tony’s ax, blood splattering across the floor before another man came flying in with his bat. Peter was quick to take him out with his makeshift ax, watching his body crumble to the floor as Tony dragged him out of the room with record speed. These assholes knew where they were and they weren’t going to stop until they were both dead.

Their fight continued on as they sprinted out into the main hall stumbling across four men with guns. They dash for some cover, weapons switching to guns as they tried not to get pelted with bullets. Hiding behind file cabinets they work around the connecting rooms as the men fired. They both used their sniper guns, slowly picking off the men hellbent on killing them. The moment the last man fell, three more men came surging up the stairs welding all types of weapons. 

More gunfire was shared between both parties, one bullet coming inches away from Peter’s head that sent him into a rage. He saw read when the men came at him, shots wounding all three before chucking a nail bomb. The men yell out in pain as it explodes, giving them enough time to run back to the empty room that held the assortment of files. Peter is the first fire at the men running from the balcony, curing loudly as the bloodbath continues. 

Gunfire lasts another few minutes only ending when the kid this time threw a nail bomb their way. The last two men fall dead, blood and pointy objects littering the walk back to the first hallway they came from. Tony takes the lead, hand just on the door’s handle when some beefy man kicks open the door with force. The man shoves him back towards the broken railing, metal creaking under his weight as the asshole puts him in a chokehold.

Tony feels the air leaving his lungs, a burning sensation spreading as he desperately tries to fight the man. Peter latches onto the man, clawing at his eyes but the freak doesn’t move only cursing at the kid. Taking one hand off his neck, he makes a fist sucker-punching the kid in stomach laughing as Peter falls to the ground in pain. 

Once the man returns his attention back to Tony, they struggle for power. The man only shoves him against the bending railing, metal slowly giving out as their weight pushing against it. Panic runs through him as he fights, lungs begging for more air as he kicks and pushes the man. They continued fighting for the next few moments both getting the upper hand until the other overpower their moves. 

Suddenly, the sound of glass catches his attention, the fracturing of the wall mimicking ice breaking on a lake. The metal bents and creaks one more time, the weight finally pushing the broken structure to its breaking point. At one moment, Tony finds himself choke gasping for air and the next moment -

_ He’s in free fall.  _

The hold around his neck disappears, wind rushing past his ears as he and man fall from the balcony to the ground below. He gasps as air fills his lungs, body turning trying to lessen the impact. He hits the pavement of his back, head ringing as his muscles and bones yell out in pain. He heaves, bile threatening to come up as a searing throbbing pain shoot ups up his body from his stomach. Tony’s body curls up in, black dots filling his vision as his shaky hands scramble to find the source of the pain. 

Every movement and breath makes the pain worse, hands and eyes gazing upon the metal rode impaling him clean through. Blood pools on the rod and his shirt, cursing escaping him as he desperately tries to free himself of the fucking metal inside him. 

_ He can’t just lay here, there are still people- _

_ Oh God, Peter was he- _

“Tony!” The kid calls out climbing down from the second floor cruising loudly. 

More black dots fill his vision, the pain unbearable with every passing movement. He curses as the men pound on the ground floor doors, more assholes coming to kill him. He panics some more, brain screaming at him to get up and protect his kid. Peter stares at his wound with wide eyes, watching as he tries to sit up. He feels the metal rod tear through his skin, muscles spasming as more blood pools. 

“What-” Peter panics himself. “What do you want me to do?!”

The doors burst open behind them, two men stumbling out with guns.

“Move!” He yells, grabbing his closest gun and firing.

Tony sits up as high as he can, pain making his hand shake as his shots go wide. Peter fumbles with his gun, firing wildly until the men fall dead. Once the last guy falls, he cries out in pain falling back to the ground as the searing pain rages across his body. 

“Oh man,” The kid panics, eyes going glassy as he stares at the amount of blood. “Tony, what-?

“I’m gonna,” He hisses out in pain grabbing the kid’s hand for dear life. “You need to pull.”

Peter's eyes only widen, cursing slipping out as his shaky fingers clutch his tightly. “Alright, you sure?”

“Pull!”

“Ah ok,  _ fuck. _ ”

The kid yanks him upward as he screams, searing pain numbing his whole body as he sees white. Through the bitter pain, he keeps telling the kid to pull, yelling as the rod slowly slips from his body. With one final tug, he hears a wet pop, body falling forward as blood just  _ gushed  _ out of him. Peter breathing heavily, helps him with upward hands trying to block the blood from spilling and to guide his injured form. Tony pushes him away, pointing in the direction they came.

“Let’s get to the damn horse,” He hisses out one hand holding his gun as the other puts pressure on one of his pooling wounds.

“Yeah uh,” The kid flounders trying to lead the way, too many emotions coming to ahead. 

They press on slowly through the rooms, his limping form trying not to collapse from the pain. He stumbles through the rooms as his vision grows blurry, black dots appearing every time he blinks. Peter keeps trying to talk to him, panicked voice wavering as he desperately searches for a way back to Karen. Painfully, he keeps moving, clawing his way through a window just as another asshole comes bursting in. 

The kid drags his bloody form to a desk for cover, muffled words not breaking through his painful haze. He blinks for a few long seconds, mind realizing that Peter wasn’t there. He coughs up some blood, panic pumping through him as a gunshot lingers in the room. 

_ Oh God, was that Peter? _

_ Where is he, where is he? _

His vision grows dark, eyes opening to find his body being shaken by Peter. The kid stares at him, voice not registering until he’s pulled upward and towards the exit. 

“I’m…” He pauses hobbling over to the door. “Ok…”

“No, you're not!” The kid’s voice cracks, pleading with him to keep going. “Come on, we need to get out of here!”

They press on at a slow pace, the kid’s voice echoing through the hall to keep him awake. He stumbles forward, hissing in pain as his knees buckle. The world goes blurry, voices starting to drown out as Peter somehow gets him to stand and lean mostly on him. They finally reach the main entrance, the kid fully focusing on his wavering form that he doesn’t see the men running down the stairs.

“Pete-” He weaves out, body lulling forward as a clusterfuck of voices erupt.

Everything goes black for a brief moment, eyes lazily opening as he watches the kid fire rounds off the shotgun. Voices break through, mostly panic from both sides as the men scramble to avoid the bullets. 

“...Stay the fuck back!”

“...kid’s got a gun--!”

Things go black for another few moments, eyes opening only to watch the man whack Peter to ground with a bat. His heart skips a beat, numb body not listening to his screaming brain to get up and help his kid. He could only watch, blood pooling out of him at record speed. He nearly screams out, eyes just catching the kid managing to fire a few bullets into the man. Blood splatters all over them, his blurry vision somewhat coming back to him. 

Somehow, Peter pulls him off the ground, taking all his weight and leading him towards the door. He hobbles through the pain, body begging him to just stop walking. 

“I swear to God,” The kid huffs through the panic. “I get you out of this, you're letting me test the sticky bombs on you.”

Tony stumbles forward as more black dots fill his vision, rasping out a reply. “You...wish.”

He blacks out for a few more moments, the ground under his feet disappearing as he tumbles to the ground. He rolls on his good side, brain finally registering the fucking steps he managed to miss. Peter calls out in panic, gun firing as Karen tries to kick the strange man next to her. The man slumps to ground after the third bullet, leaving the horse freely standing there. He finally takes a good look at the kid, color draining from his face as he takes in the amount of blood covering him. It caked against his skin and clothes, his blood staining the both of them.

_ Fuck, it was a lot. _

The kid urges him up once more, legs barely supporting his weak form. Peter then brings Karen over, somehow getting a man much heavier than him up on the saddle as his head lolls forward. Through his tired and hazy daze, he makes the horse right off. A cold sensation hits his faces, eyes just now recognizing the snowflakes falling from the grey clouds. He manages to fight through the pain to get them out of the campus, black dots filling his blurry vision. 

“I think we’re all good,” Peter sighs, helping guide the horse. 

Tony just nods as the numbness in his body spreads throughout. He loses control of his body, head lolling forward as all his body weight shifts to one side before he impacts the ground once more. He stares up at the dark skies, barely feeling the rough shakes of the kid hovering over him.

“ _ Tony?!”  _ Peter tries to shake him awake.

He doesn’t respond, only staring off into space. The kid panics over him, hands smacking his face as tears fall. Tony weaves out a breath, cold air showcasing his struggling rasps.

_“Get up, get up, get up_ ,” The kid pleads as his voice breaks. “ _You have to tell me what to do. I don't-"_

His eyes finally flutter close, the numbness and sheer tiredness taking over his form. His brain yells at him to wake up but that voice was so far away now, only an echo being drowned out. He feels a few more shakes as he slowly loses all feeling. 

“ _ Tony, please.” _

Is the last thing he hears before he slips in a vast void of nothingness. 


	19. The Horror and the Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wind howls through the trees, gusts creating a smaller frenzy of flurries that dance around in the breeze. The trees sway, broken limbs falling into the buried mess of decay below. The sun peeks through the heavy clouds, rays bringing nothing to the chilly atmosphere. Shadows cast, lingering creatures dancing through the woods. A bunny peeks through its tiny barrow, thick white fur covered in flurries. Its ear’s perk, nose sniffing as it looks for food with a peaceful daze. 
> 
> A loud swoosh cuts through the wind, barreling object piercing the bunny’s body moments later. The creature’s body jerks into the snowbank, crimson hue staining the stark white ground. A wooden arrow keeps its body in place, the bunny’s eyes losing its life staring at its hunter: a lone boy no older than fifteen. 
> 
> It was Peter, tried, cold, and _alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, guns, death, and drugs

_It’s The Normal People That Scare Me._

_WINTER_

_**…** _

A stark white layer covers the grounds of the Colorado woods in a matter of days. Growing storms raging through the area in a bizarre like frenzy. The grey skies linger until the raging storm is through, the blue hue finally peeking from the thick layer of darkness. The light returns, the once warm sky taking on a paler, cooler color than before. Treetops go bare in the coming days, the once vibrant leaves crumbling into nothing but a decaying brown. The only color still clinging onto the branches is the green hue of the pines. 

The wind howls through the trees, gusts creating a smaller frenzy of flurries that dance around in the breeze. The trees sway, broken limbs falling into the buried mess of decay below. The sun peeks through the heavy clouds, rays bringing nothing to the chilly atmosphere. Shadows cast, lingering creatures dancing through the woods. A bunny peeks through its tiny barrow, thick white fur covered in flurries. Its ear’s perk, nose sniffing as it looks for food with a peaceful daze. 

A loud swoosh cuts through the wind, barreling object piercing the bunny’s body moments later. The creature’s body jerks into the snowbank, crimson hue staining the stark white ground. A wooden arrow keeps its body in place, the bunny’s eyes losing its life staring at its hunter: a lone boy no older than fifteen. 

It was Peter, tried, cold, and  _ alone.  _

His shivering form shuffles over to the dead bunny, black boots crunching through the hard layer of snow. The heels of his shoes sink just slightly, ice covering his clothes after trekking through the elements. He sighs with a tired huff, a small cloud of air escaping from his mouth. Peter yanks the bunny off his arrow, holding its small form in a way so the blood wouldn’t drip all over him. He puts the arrow away, eyes studying the creature once more.

_ This wouldn’t last long. _

_ He needed food, he needed something more sustainable. _

_ God, he wishes Tony was here. _

Trapped in his thoughts, he walks back over to a snow-covered Karen; saddled lined with other two squirrels he managed to snag. With the winter setting in, all the animals went into hibernation and any birds mostly migrated somewhere. And it's not like he could just travel to another area, he was mostly stuck in a state he’s never been in. Growing up in the remains of New York then the Boston Zone clearly didn’t do him justice. 

A snapping twig breaks him from his daze, eyes darting to the side before nearly bugging out. He lets out airy laugh, a dopey grin tugging at his lips. A few feet ahead stood a rather large deer, eating grass blissfully unaware of his presence. As the deer begins totting away, Peter quickly ties Karen to a nearby tree before adjusting his bag. 

“Sorry girl,” He pets her, brushing the snow off her nose. “You’ll just startle it.”

He jaunts forward, sliding his already cold body down a slushy snowbank. His eyes scan the area, snowy landscapes blurring the forest into one big maze. Bow out, he inches forward stumbling upon deer leading further into the forest. With one final look back towards Karen, Peter makes a mental note of his surroundings before heading further into the unknown. No matter how much he wandered these woods, there was much of this area he had to discover. 

Unwanted nerves aside, he follows the tracks through rocky terrain finding the unassuming deer eating away. His breath puffs through the chilly air, numb fingers lining his arrow up with the torso of the large deer. The wind howls as his arrow sails through the air, arrowhead just too high only wounding the animal. The creature wails, panic taking over, sprinting off further into the woods leaving a trail of blood. Peter curses, numbly sliding down the snow to retrieve his arrow. 

He picks up his pace, hand ripping the metal arrowhead out of the icy ground mid-stride. Instead of looking for tracks, he jaunts through another clearing following the crimson trail staining the stark white snow. He heads up an incline, wishing nothing to be indoors somewhere sitting by fire and more importantly not alone.

_ He’s so tired of being alone. _

_ But the universe seems to have other plans.  _

Ice crunches underneath his boots as he runs, howling wind refusing to let him keep his hood up. Peter huffs, shaky fingers trying to pull his wooly beanie over his ears. Now, he was yearning for some type of warmth, anything at this point. He could go back to where he set up camp, but he was already this far, might as well try to get the damn deer. 

He hated the cold, always has. He truly could only stand it for an hour before he scrambled back inside, back to May -- His mind lingered on their old small apartment in Boston, the ‘Queens’ section of floors that tried to make these rooms sound appealing. In reality it was in a decaying state but it was still better than their tent back in New York. He was too little to remember much, but he vividly recalls his pure hatred for the unsafe tents the military had them sleep in. He still had good memories in that apartment, reading leftover books and listening to old records. They were happier times, and then…

May died, on her way back from a shift and their apartment, was no longer the Parker’s. It instead was given to others, the military letting those people claim all of May's things, Ben’s things. All their stuff, gone and in the hands of total strangers. 

_ He hated this world. _

After another long minute, he sees the deer’s figure in the distance trying to nurse its wounds. Coming to a halt, he arcs the bow upward sending an arrow through the air. This time, the arrow embeds itself in its side, the deer scattering away once more. The blood trail grows darker and wider, droplets turning into puddles. 

“Damn it,” He sighs watching the animal flee. “Why can’t you stay still.”

He presses forward once more. 

Peter travels through darker parts of woods, unknown areas making his nerves flare. Dread fills him more as he stumbles upon the broken remains of a house. It was bare-bones at this point, roof and walls all caving on each other as burnt marks littered the wood. The trail of blood leads right inside the creepy structure, his anxiety at its peak. 

“Everything is fine,” He tries to reassure himself, wishing Tony was standing next to him leading the charge. Although the man could be a dick at certain moments didn’t mean that he didn’t feel safe when around him. “This place isn’t creepy at all…”

Sprinting out of the structure, he finds what looks like an old lumber mill with twenty years of decay taking a toll on it. Laying at the center, the blood trail grew thick, crimson hue leading right to the now deceased deer. Peter sighs with relief, pace slowing as he heads over to the creature with the arrow still embedded in its side. He studies it, mind trying to figure out how he’ll drag his back to Karen when a twig snaps behind him. 

His head snaps up, body more alert than he was before. Muscle memory kicks in, hand reaching for another arrow as he draws back the string. Peter turns around with speed, eyes glancing through the darkness of the trees trying not to let his panic show. Last thing he needed was infected smelling the blood or worst, some of the same shitty people he dealt with earlier. 

“Who’s there?” He calls out in a powerful voice. He sees a figure slightly move behind a tree, body not yet coming into view. He shifts his bow towards the stranger, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Tony was the intimidating one, his old man scowls were truly unmatched. “Come out,  _ now. _ ”

Almost sheepishly, the figure comes out alive and thankfully not infected. The man, of average size and height offers a hand up in surrender, the other holding onto the strap to his rifle. The man stands in front of him, decked out in mostly denim clothes snow-covered. He then chuckles, rubbing his greying beard before fixing the beanie over his bald head. 

“Hello…” The man beckons his rather annoyed friend over, still trying to seem friendly. “We just want to talk.”

Peter’s eyes them suspiciously, taking in the other man that looks more threatening than his friend. The much younger man showed barely any gray, instead his medium brown hair sat messy against his forehead as his beard looked clean and shaven. A black turtleneck peeked up from under his green jacket, blue eyes narrowing as he matches his own suspicious gaze. 

“Any sudden move and I put one right between your eyes,” Peter challenges, proud he could sound a least bit intimidating. He watches the other man, scoff and roll his eyes. He shifts his bow over to him, eyes narrowing. “Ditto for you too asshole, now what do you want?”

“Name’s Obadiah Stane but everyone just calls me Obie,” The older man begins, still trying to diffuse the situation. He gestures to his pal, giving him a warning glare. “And this moody man of mine is Quentin Beck.”

“Want do you want?” He presses again, fingers straining as he pulls his bow tightly. 

_ He really didn’t want to kill any people today. _

Beck speaks up this time, arms crossed but unarmed. “We’re from a larger group, you know women, children,” He looks Peter up and down with a judging glare. “We’re all hungry, very hungry.”

Peter watches then eye the deer, stomach dropping. “So am I,” He snaps back, trying to create a lie. “Women and children, all very hungry too.”

_ Lies, he hasn’t seen anyone in weeks. _

Both men share a look, Beck shaking his head against some idea brewing. 

“Well maybe we could ah, trade you for some of that meat there.” Obie offers, trying to get his friend to lighten up a bit. “What do you need? Weapons, ammo, clothes-”

“Medicine!” Peter exclaims, stern composer breaking just slightly. The wind howls as his eyes soften, desperation coming through. “Do you have any antibiotics?”

_ Please have some, please. _

“We do, back at the camp. You're welcome to follow us-”

He cuts off Stane once more, guard coming back up once more. “I’m not following you anywhere.” He gestures to Beck watching the man eye him with a sly smirk. “Buddy boy over there can go get it. And if he comes back with what I need, the deer is all yours.”

He didn’t care that he trekked all this way for the deer, medicine was a much better supply. He just had to play his cards right, he had no idea what these men's true intentions were.

“Anyone else shows up-”

“You put one right between our eyes,” Beck finishes with an eye roll.

“Damn right.”

Stane giving his friend one last glare, spoke. “Two bottles of penicillin and a syringe. Make it fast and stop being so stubborn.”

“Whatever,” Beck huffs, giving one last glance to Peter. “It's your funeral.”

“Quentin, just go.”

Watching him backtrack, they both stand in the howling wind as Peter tries to keep the situation under his control. He eyes the rifle, bow still drawn remembering what Tony taught him over the last few months.

_ Get the upper hand, always. _

“I’ll take that rifle.” Obie nods, slowly placing the gun on the snow. “Back up,” He warns, making the man walk far back to the trees before he takes the gun for himself. 

Peter switches weapons quickly, cocking the rifle and pointing towards the man. Silence falls between them, only the wind filling the void as the temperature seems to drop. Snow flies about in the wind, a cold chill causing both of their faces to turn red. 

“He’s probably gonna be a while,” Stane finally says, gesturing to one of the still standing buildings. “You ah, mind if we take some shelter from the cold?

A shiver creeps up his spine, howling wind making his lip wobble. He sniffles, pointing to the dead deer still laying beside them.

“Bring him with us.” 

________

About fifteen minutes later, they both settled in an old warehouse not as decayed like the others. Its windows are all broken, half on boards hanging on rusty nails that seem ready to break at any moment. The deer lays in the corner wrapped in some old tarp, a crimson blood trail streaking across the floor. Stane plays with a small fire, forming rocks around the wood as flames crackle with some warmth. Peter doesn’t stand too close, gun still aimed at the man fully prepared for these assholes to cross him. 

“You know,” Obie tries to make conversation. “You really shouldn’t be out here all on your own.”

_ I didn’t have a fucking choice. _

“I don’t like the company.”

_ Lies, lies, lies. _

“I see. Then how about your name?”

Obadiah’s presence unnerves him, something about this man made Peter want to flee for Karen and get the hell out of there. The older man only studies him; unknown intentions making his skin crawl. He already knows Tony would be giving this man shit, possibly even threatening him to get the hell away. And yet, he stayed desperately hoping this Beck guy would get here sooner. 

“Why?” He asks, not wanting this strange man to know his name. 

“Look, I understand it’s not easy to trust a couple of strangers,” Stane eyes him again, chuckling like he doesn’t have a gun pointed at him. The man smirks, almost reading his inner thoughts. “Whoever’s hurt, you clearly care about them. I’m sure it’s gonna be just fine.”

_ You didn’t see the blood. _

_ You didn’t have to stitch up his wounds.  _

Peter doesn’t respond, biting his lip as he tries to get the painful memories out of his head. Obie inches just a bit closer, mouth opening to say some odd comment when a loud screech echoes through the air. Clicks and snarls follow after, multiple voices sounding off. 

_ Shit infected. _

They both jumped up, shaky breaths filling the room as the clicks got closer. Breaking off, they look out the half-boarded windows, eyes searching for the source of the noises. A spore-filled clicker comes surging in, blind lopsided head whipping around as it clicks. They go painfully still, Peter taking one step back only to have the freak go into a snarling frenzy. Moments before he’s able to fire off the rifle, gunshots ring out. 

The clicker falls to the ground in a pool of blood, body stilling as Peter’s eyes dart over to Stane holding a smoking pistol. His eyes nearly bug out, brain yelling at him for not checking for other Goddamn weapons beforehand. 

“You had another gun?!”

“Sorry,” The man huffs staring out the door for more freaks. More snarls and growls longer closer, a cluster of infected surging towards the loud sounds. “I’d really like my rifle back now.”

“No!" He snaps back stressed. “You have your pistol.”

Obadiah’s eyes darken, a flash of anger appearing in a scowl. He blinks a few times calming himself down, returning back to the ‘nice guy’ persona. 

“I hope you know how to use that thing.”

Peter glares at the man watching him slam the metal door and locking it. “No shit.”

“Just-” Stane pauses taking a deep breath. “Keep them out and cover the windows.”

Fanning out, it was only moments later that infected started surging upon their hideout. It was a mixture of runners and clickers from all sides, spore filled figures desperately clawing at the broken boards across the windows trying to get inside. Screeches and snarls echoed inside the room, gunshots from Obadiah following suit. Peter cocks the rifle, steady hands firing through the small slits in the boards. Blood spatters, wood splintering as more freaks tear their way through.

A clusterfuck of blood and bullets awaken, hordes of infected coming from their hiding places within the forest. Their hungry gazes peeked through the windows, twisting forms jerking their way inside through the openings. Wounds form in their sides, pain overshadowed by their growing hunger. Peter fires and reloads, stumbling back as he watches the horror in front of him. There was no side of human life within these creatures, only spore filled brains twisting the once normal host into a freak of nature. 

Through their fury and the stream of bullets, the rotted wood once nailed to the frame crumbles to the ground. Windows lay open, more figures taking their chance to slip inside towards the bloody deer and the two living humans. They snarl and growl, forms dropping inside as he curses loudly trying his hardest no to get overrun. Stane flips around from his side, panic written all over firing at the freaks coming inside.

“I thought I told you to keep them out!”

Peter glares for a moment, exploding the spore brains of a runner. “Says the wise-ass with fewer windows!”

Stane mutters something under his breath, eyes dark and filled with disgust as his gaze lingers on Peter. He grows uneasy at the sight of the man, brain telling him to not trust this jerk for one second. Their gazes meet, Obadiah dropping his glare and putting up a facade as if nothing happened. A runner busts through another window, jerking form scrambling inside the room as it charges. Bullets fly from both guns, targets switching from freaks coming inside, and the ones just reaching the open windows. 

They continued firing until there was a break in the attack, infected cries slightly farther out. They both breathe heavily, eyes taking in the carnage within the room and the outside. The floors are splattered in blood, bodies pooling in the corners all far away from the deer. Outside, more bodies laid; the white snow around the building completely red and growing to a deep crimson. 

Stane gestures to a large metal cabinet in one of the corners. “Use that brain of yours and push that cabinet towards the open windows.”

Peter scoffs, blood boiling. “In case you didn’t realize the infected were  _ charging _ at us.”

_ This wasn’t Tony’s offhanded comments he was used to when he got stressed. _

_ No, this man was full of disgust, a large ego sitting on his shoulders.  _

_ He actually preferred that the Beck guy stayed.  _

“Doesn’t matter, we have another large group coming our way, they must have followed you.”

“Or you and your friend.”

“Whatever, just push the damn thing.”

Together after another few mutters shared, they push the big ass cabinet in front of the three open windows. The infected gets closer with each passing second, Obie leaving him to be compromised by the window as they push. It was only a few moments later when Stane tapped out of pushing that a clicker grabbed Peter from the tiny opening. 

The rifle lays against his shoulder, eyes widening in panic as he fumbles for his switchblade. The man only fires at the freaks feet away, body turning away leaving him to deal with the sheer strength of a hungry clicker. The freak opens its mouth as they struggle, it’s breath reeking of decay as he gags. Finally, his fingers yank the knife out of his belt, arm aching and stabbing the creature in the eye. The clicker recoils with a screech, grip loosening enough for Peter to explode its head with the rifle. It’s body slumps over the window, blood pouring down the wall as he breathes heavily. 

He blinks a few times, listening to the echoing snarls and gunshots. Blood stains his hands and arm, as his heart beats wildly. He pushes the anger for the man way down, blood boiling as he returns firing at the freaks trying to get through the other openings.

_ He can’t wait to leave this asshole. _

Together, they silently took out what they thought was the remaining group freaks. Another pause in waves of infected occurs, a louder section of infected running towards the building. Peter checks his ammo, cursing at the low amount. Stane gaze turns towards the other metal door leading out of this blood-filled room. The man curses taking a look at the deer before kicking the door open. 

“Screw it, we’re getting out of here.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Bringing up the rear, Peter runs up the stairs following a man he doesn’t quite trust. They reach another room, Stane scrambling over to a bookcase trying to push it in front of the doorway as clickers run up the stairs. Pushing it in place, they stumbled back as the freaks pounded against it fully knowing it wasn’t going to last long. Not lingering in the room, they sprinted into the snowy remains of the lumber mill on the verge of collapse. Together they work their way through the old equipment trying to find a way not to become the freaks' next meal. 

“You’ve been here before?” He asks hoping this man had some redeeming qualities. 

“Never set foot in here.”

“Great.”

_ Parker luck, at it’s finest. _

_ This asshole better still give him the medicine. _

Running up a set of metal stairs, they travel over the wobbly grate pathways leading above the equipment. Stane still leads the way, Peter stumbling over the fallen roof to keep the pace with this man. He hops over another blockade, boots just hitting the metal before the whole section falls to one side. 

Next thing he knows, he’s in free fall.

Seconds later, his body is slamming against the metal grate and snowy ground with a thud. The wind gets knocked out of him, wheezing breaths escaping him as his head rings. He blinks back the painful gasps, body protesting as he sits up checking himself for any impalements.

_ God, now he knows how Tony felt.  _

Stane surprisingly doesn’t leave him, only instead looking down from above his painful moments with a slight smirk. Peter, not finding any injuries but potential bruises stumbles up trying to find his footing. He dusts the snow off himself, whiplash settling in as he moves his neck. Clickers screeches come from overhead, both of their gazes shifting towards the end of the walkway watching them charge at Stane. The man scoffs, yelling something about getting out of there before running off.

Peter scrambles upward, taking cover against the wall as more infected noises come from his area. Quietly he switches to his switchblade eyes peeking out to discover clickers hobble about. Taking Tony's methods to heart he works through the grounds of the mill, using spare bricks to alert the freaks away from him. When needed, he sneaks up on the clicker, knife cutting through the freak before the others realize. 

After a few rounds of dodging clickers, he climbs up a ladder altering a clicker up top to his presence. It snarls, erratic form hobbling its way towards him only to be stopped by a few bullets to the head. Peter stops in his tracks as the infected figure slumped towards the ground, slowly inching his way towards the source of the shots and away from any of the freak's friends.

It was probably Stane but at this point but he still didn’t trust him. 

Both of them meet back up, Obie almost rolling his eyes at the fact that he was still alive. Wordlessly, he gestures him back towards his way explaining how they need a ladder stuck up top to get out. The man tries to come up with some convoluted plan, only to be cut off by Peter’s scoff as he lunges himself upward. Using the broken railings and ledge he parkours his way up, reaching the ladder in seconds before tossing it to ground.

Stane this time holds back a glare or comment, muttering something under his breath as Peter works his way down. They shift to a different landing, reaching another long hallway in a decaying state. Most of its windows were intact, the walkway almost at an incline from the years of decay. More infected snarls come from below, hordes of these freaks filling the area.

_ He was never coming back here, ever. _

“We need to find a way out of here,” Obie huffs listening to the snarls.

“No shit.”

Stumbling into some old hideout, they find the remains of someone still lying in their dried blood. Beds still lay in place, food cans and other supplies almost picked clean but others coming through. The infected voices only got louder, their attention solely focused on finding their next meals. Their forms linger outside, this base seemingly more protected than where they first started. 

“Shit,” Stane sighs when he works his way over to the bodies Peter was by. “I’ve been looking for these boys.”

He takes a closer look at the bodies from above, noticing a dreaded expression the dead man's face froze in. These men clearly had chunks taken out of them, infected too starved to leave anything for these men to come back as runners. They were just bloody messes of bodies and nothing else. 

“This place is a fucking dead end,” The man sighs as the infected boom from the outside. “There is no way-”

Footsteps come from the rooftop, snarls echoing as bodies suddenly dropping in from the open skylight. Clickers and runners alike stumble through the opening, desperate in their search for a meal. They both scramble for their weapons, more snarls coming from the hallway they just ran through. Three clickers come charging up, making the total inside to an even ten. They scatter, bullets flying as infected charges from all sides. 

Their room echoes with screeches, snarls, and gunshots; chaos ensuing as more freaks joined their party. Peter’s steady hands grew shaky as the rifle ran out of ammo, his makeshift ax swinging about trying no to get overrun by freaks as Stane dealt with his own group. Making a dent in his freaks, he fumbles through his pack lighting a Molotov towards the cluster just landing from the roof. They burst into flames, forms withering away as he then chucks a nail bomb towards the figures coming from the hall. 

Obadiah kills two clickers, whipping his head over to the carnage around him. “What the hell is  _ that  _ and why haven’t you been using them?!”

“I don’t have as many like I do bullets!” He responds swinging his ax towards the last two clickers.

Their bodies fall, blood caking the floors like the rest. Both of them share a look of panic and worry, heavy footsteps pounding from the roof. Peter grabs his last Molotov ready for a horde of clickers only to find something way worse.

_ A fucking bloater.  _

“Fuck!” Stane curses. 

“Bloater!” Peter yells, chucking the Molotov its way, watching the flames subdue the freak only a little bit.

“A what now?!”

“The big fucking guys that throw spore balls!”

Whipping out his own pistol, he fires at the beast with Obie, not stopping until the monster stops moving. In its final breath, it lets out a guttural snarl echoing through the warehouse. A few more runners try breaking through the windows, only to be stopped midway by their bullets. Blood pooled out of the bodies once more, the whole area looking like a murder spree. 

The last gunshot rings out, the room going painfully silent. They freeze, guns still ready as infected snarls disappear. The howling wind fills the void, the mill going back to an eerie ghost town of decay. 

Obadiah is the first to speak after many long moments. “Kid, I think we did it.”

“Like we killed all of them?”

Stane laughs in a creepy way, walking back towards the hall with his gun down. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” 

“More like disbelief…” 

Slowly, Peter lets his guard down, following the man back towards the hall area. He watches Stane stare out the hole in the wall, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. He beckons him over, a cool demeanor returning like when he introduced himself. 

“My boy,” The man latches onto his shoulder, tugging him over before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Stane looks at the grounds of dead bodies with a cheery grin. “Listen.”

Peter only stills by his actions, body tensing as his fingers fumbled with his jacket zipper. Obadiah didn’t loosen his grip, only smiled more as he grew uncomfortable with his touch. His brain screamed at him to get away, but his body stayed put uneasiness growing in his gut. 

_ Stane was not Tony. _

_ Tony was safe. _

_ This man wasn’t. _

“No infected,” He finally gets out, trying to get out of the man’s hold.

“What I tell ya?” Stane ruffled his curls and Peter nearly shut down right there. Another few painful minutes go by before he’s finally let out. “Alright, let’s head on back and check on that buck of ours.”

With another ruffle of his hair, Peter just nods screaming internally as he reminds himself that he can’t just run away just yet. He still needed that damn medicine and Beck was taking too damn long to return. 

_ This was all for Tony. _

He followed Obie without another word. 

________

Returning back to their original setup, they discover the buck still intact under the tarp. The fire still crackles and roars with life, adding some warmth to the cold room. Stane only beckons him closer, gesturing for Peter to sit next to him but he just stands there rifle in hand. The man only laughs some more, showcasing a completely different personality than before.

“You handled yourself pretty nice back there,” Stane smiled creepily poking the fire with a stick. “I’d even say we make a pretty good team.”

_ Tony and him made a good team, not you. _

_ It was Tony and Peter, not creepy Obaidah.  _

“We got lucky,” He muttered nerves bubbling in his chest. 

“Lucky? No, no...No such thing as luck,” Stane scoffs with a smirk leaning moving closer to him. “No, you see I believe that everything happens for a reason.”

“Mhm hm.”

Peter takes one step back only to have Obie move two steps closer. The man has a dark look in his eye, a devilish smirk showcasing other intentions. He cocks his head to the eye, pupils almost fully black and covering the brown color. 

“You see kiddo, this winter has been especially cruel.”

_ You need the medicine, don’t run just yet.  _

“A few weeks back, I ah…” Stane pauses poking the fire some more as anger flickers in his eyes. “Sent a group of men out to a nearby town to look for food. Only a few came back and they said that others had been slaughtered by a crazy man.” His evil eyes finally met Peter’s as a chill went down his spine. “And get this, he’s a crazy man traveling with a little boy with messy brown curls.”

The color leaves Peter’s face, anxiety wrapping around his lungs like a snake. He lets out a shaky breath as Obadiah starts, gaze lingering as he crushes the stick in his hands. 

“You see kiddo? Everything happens for a reason.”

He scrambles backward once the twig snaps, an unloaded rifle pointed at the man expecting a murderous rage to erupt. 

_ These were his men that tried to kill them. _

_ These were the men that almost killed Tony, almost killed his father- _

“Now, now,” Stane coos in a soft voice that didn’t match his gaze. “Don’t get upset, it's not your fault. You're just a kid.”

_ A kid that killed his men too.  _

Obadiah’s gazes only break for a moment, an annoyed sigh escaping as someone cocks a gun behind Peter. “Damnit, Beck lowered the gun.” 

Peter whips his head around, to find an angry Beck standing in the doorway. He aims his gun, a murderous stare making the anxiety in his chest grow. 

_ Fuck- _

“Hell no, Obie. There is no way I’m letting this punk go.”

“Lower the gun,  _ now.”  _ The evil stare is put upon Beck, any form of a smirk replaced with a tightly drawn scowl. Quentin follows orders, gun lowering as a small spark of fear washes over his face. “Now give the boy the medicine.”

Beck tosses the bag with disgust, huffing as he walks over to his friend. “The other won’t be happy about this.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not your concern.”

Peter on the verge of having a panic attack, scrambles to bag checking the contents before working his way over to the door. He keeps his gun raised at both men trying his hardest not to show his inner turmoil. One foot outside, he’s about to sprint off only to be stopped by Obie speaking.

“You won’t survive long out there,” Stane finally stands, gaze never leaving him. “Especially not with that man. But I?” He chuckles opening his arms out wide. “I can protect you.”

_ Oh God, he may just puke. _

“No thanks,” He huffs out before making a run for it. 

Peter sprints as fast as he can, running against the howling wind refusing to stop until he is out of the lumber mill area. When he reaches the cliffside, he gazes down at the area catching his breath looking for any followers. When he doesn’t see the men, he sprints some more using the deer’s blood trail to lead him all the way back to Karen. 

When he finally reaches her, he nearly cries; hands fumbling with her reins before hopping on her saddle. Breathing heavily, he shakes the reins sending her into full speed daring not to stop until he makes some distance. Riding through the storm, every sound sets him off expecting some freak or Obie’s men to ambush him. 

_ God, he wants Tony. _

_ He wants to feel safe again.  _


	20. Always a Catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The skies grew darker as Peter traveled through the storm, howling wind drowning the breathy gasps escaping from him. Anxiety grips his lungs like a snake, hands holding the reins trying to steer Karen until his knuckles turned white. 
> 
> His mind lingers back to Stane and his bone-chilling grin. 
> 
> _I can protect you._
> 
> The air escapes his lungs once more, shaky form gazing behind him and staring into the dense forest. Peter keeps riding, hand twitching for a weapon almost expecting Obadiah’s men to come sprinting from the woods hellbent on revenge. They tried to kill them before, there was no reason that they wouldn’t even the score for their men. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore, guns, drugs, and injuries. Minor character death.

The skies grew darker as Peter traveled through the storm, howling wind drowning the breathy gasps escaping from him. Anxiety grips his lungs like a snake, hands holding the reins trying to steer Karen until his knuckles turned white. 

His mind lingers back to Stane and his bone-chilling grin. 

_ I can protect you. _

The air escapes his lungs once more, shaky form gazing behind him and staring into the dense forest. Peter keeps riding, hand twitching for a weapon almost expecting Obadiah’s men to come sprinting from the woods hellbent on revenge. They tried to kill them before, there was no reason that they wouldn’t even the score for their men. 

A few more painstaking and chilling moments later, a familiar sight of cabins comes into the view. The storm rages on, dark skies casting an eerie scene on the cluster of homes left to ruin. The area hasn't changed the moment he found it, almost two weeks ago, and barely had any infected; only the rare sight of three clickers hobbling around the central neighborhood. Although not as ideal as other places they camped out in, these cabins were enough to hide from the impending storms. Especially since Tony was near death from that damn wound. 

Sticking to the outskirts, Peter led Karen towards the edge of the neighborhood and passed the main houses people would try to scavenge through. However, with this area, most of the houses were mostly decaying: windows and even walls gone and leaving the contents inside to the elements. It took a few sedulous minutes to find the ranch-style cabin still standing with functioning windows. That became their base for the next few days; Tony too out of it as his body fights off a growing infection.

_ Thank God he got medicine.  _

Inches away from the cabin, Peter scans the area once more for any threats. His teeth chatter, lips probably blue from the growing drop in temperature. The storm casts the fallen snow into swirling spirals, icy flakes nipping at his face. His eyes linger for a few more moments, body slipping off the horse knife at the ready just in case. 

When he finally moves towards the cabin or his makeshift home, the snow comes up to heels. His weight sinks him lower with each step, numb fingers fumbling with the garage door. He heaves opening the door before leading Karen inside the concrete room. Shelves sit mostly barren except for a blanket and some food and water for the horse. The wind fills the room, howling drowning the small creak of metal as the door is lowered shut. 

The room goes dim, Karen shaking off the snow happily and unbothered. Peter doesn’t move yet, shaky breaths visible in the colder temperatures. Panic still gripped his lungs, somewhat unraveling at the lack of threats around him. His daze lingers only for a few moments, mind snapping back when his hand brushes against the bag in his pocket. 

_ Right the medicine.  _

_ Now is not the time to panic.  _

Muscle memory takes over, uneasy form working around the room to make Karen comfortable. He takes the leather saddle off, setting it to the side before fetching a blanket to hang over her. Peter then grabs the animals he shot, freeing the horse of their bloody bodies. He gives her praises as goes through the motions, hand already feeding her the last of carrots. He stays that this for a few more seconds, letting Karen's calm demeanor center him. The wind howls as his body shivers, body numbly tearing him away from the horse and into the main floor of the cabin. 

The main area was quite small when he lugged Tony inside the first time. Windows sat mostly intact, a few shattered while others stood with bullet holes riddled through. The kitchen was a mess, all cleared out food-wise. The living room was just a couch sitting right under the broken windows, worn from the years of weather. Beside the connecting spaces was a bedroom in no shape for sleeping in: too many windows uncovered and a not so sound water damaged wall. Even with its flaws, this place was much better than the decaying structures littered throughout. Though smaller than most, this house still had plenty of use left.

The kitchen became storage for the animals Peter managed to grab, empty fridge keeping them colder until he could make a meal. The living room and bedroom were mostly a lost cause except for the horde of blankets and pillows he managed to nab. Their main setup, however, was below the main floor and in the basement. There, all windows were intact and much warmer than the rooms above. But more importantly out of sight of threats that could possibly wander by. 

It was their shitty hideaway until Tony recovered and he was going stir crazy. 

Traveling down the basement steps, Peter was met with a dimmer room lined with an assortment of shelves lined with supplies he managed to find. He tugs his bag off his sore shoulders placing it right next to the mess of objects with a sigh. 

His eyes finally stare at the form lying in the center of the room, Tony.

Tony’s body laid perfectly still on an old lumpy mattress, figure mostly covered by three of thickest blankets. Peter's gaze only lingers on the man, anxiety peaking at the sight of a still body. Bile rises in his throat, legs refusing to move from their spot. 

“T-Tony,” He mutters. 

_ Oh God, please don’t- _

Peter’s eyes silently plead with the man holding his breath until he can see shaky huffs escaping Tony’s lips. He lets out a breath, running his hand through his matted hair. His friend, mentor, fath-- he didn’t know what they were at this point, didn’t open his eyes only muttering some inaudible pained sounds. He was awake but not coherent enough. 

“Okay ah,” He fumbles around the room digging through his pocket. “I only managed to get a little bit of food. But, I did get this.” 

Peter kneels beside him, fully knowing that Tony wouldn’t respond with any words. Gently he moved the blankets off his friend’s shivering and pained form, hands pulling the penicillin and a syringe out. His hand then ghosts over his mentor’s hand protecting his wound, gloved fingers trying not to disturb him too much. 

“Move your arm.”

Tony only whines, hand moving with Peter’s showcasing some recognition of his voice. Carefully, he draws back his hand, lifting his heavy flannel upward to reveal the inflamed snitches spanning at least a few inches. Bruising mostly forms around the black thread, a somewhat decent job of sewing back the torn skin. He sucks in a breath, fingers gently checking on the switches as his eyes take in the other scars along his friend’s body. Twenty years' worth of battle scars littered across his torso all holding their unique story within. 

Peter stares for a few more seconds, only breaking his worried glance to draw the medicine into the syringe. Its muscle memory for him at this point, years of watching and practicing giving other orphans and soldiers first aid kicking in. He can recall the numerous times he wrapped up soldiers' wounds listening to them bitch about the current state of the zone and the horrors known as Avengers. 

“Okay,” He tries to warn his friend as the needle inches closer to his side. “Here we go.”

For the first time in a while, the needle causes a reaction out of Tony. His friend hisses out in pain, eyes pinched shut as his breathing becomes more labored. Peter only keeps apologizing, pressing through his own guilt to give his friend the rest of the medicine. It didn’t matter that he managed to quickly bandage then stitch his mentor’s wound, the infection that wasn’t even spore related could still kill him. 

_ The universe needed to give them some sort of break. _

He finishes, apologizing some more as Tony mutters more inaudible things. Peter then puts the medicine away, watching as his friend shiver. He quickly brings the blankets up to his mentor’s chin, taking the back of his hand looking for some sort of fever. He feels a small heat but to his relief much cooler than when he checked this morning. 

“You're gonna make it,” He affirms with a strong nod, almost a plea to the universe or greater power. “You're gonna make it.”

Peter repeats that phrase as he pushes his tried form to do some more daily tasks. He needed to take stock of their supplies and the animals he hunted that still sat untended upstairs. Everything, after he leaves the basement, becomes the blur; a repeat of the recent days of him trying to keep himself busy. Once he finishes with the animals, he finds himself sitting against the basement wall fumbling around with the supplies and his notebook. 

Using the hardcover, he leans scraps of paper against it noting just how much supplies they had left. Food was always a worry nowadays and by the looks of it, he was running out of the contents to make nail bombs and other wide range explosives. His almost dried up pen scribbled around the paper, blue ink following his wild train of thought. 

_ No matter how many trips he took, they were still always sort of something. _

_ God, he wishes Tony would just talk to him.  _

_ Damn Stane’s man and decaying structures.  _

Bitterly, he slams the notebook to the floor, huffing in frustration. Years spent within the zones never prepared him for the harsh winters on his own. Between the constant threat of infected and evil humans, there was always a looming cloud of needs weighing him down. 

_ Parker luck, the universe's curse. _

With another huff, he takes his head out of his hands before noticing the tattered red envelope peeking out from the front cover. Peter’s hand ghosts over the envelope pulling the old material free, eyes glassy. He flips open the tattered flap, revealing the worn letter slightly faded. Neater handwriting dances across the page with black ink, some letters forming into cursive. 

_ Peter,  _

_ I'm going to share a secret with you before the world went into turmoil I wasn’t so fond of the idea of having kids. Your father and I just started our careers and we had no idea where a baby could fit in it. And yet even in this new dangerous world...I’m staring at you and I’m just awestruck. Your father, if he was still here, would be the same, maybe even more love than I’m right now.  _

_ You're not even a day old and holding you is the most incredible thing I've done in my life - a life that is about to get cut a little short. None of us like the cards that the universe deals us with, but I like to hope there is an important reason why you're here with us. Even as young as you are, I know you're destined for great things.  _

_ May and Ben will look after you. There's no one in this world I trust more than them. But God forbid something happens...The Avengers will take you in, Natasha and Steve are just as trustworthy as your aunt and uncle. They’ll raise you into the strong person I’ll know you be.  _

_ Whatever the cards deal, don't give them too much of a hard time. Try not to be as stubborn as me or your father. I'm not going to lie, this is a pretty messed up world. It won't be easy. The thing you always have to remember is that life is worth living!  _

_ Find your purpose and fight for it. _

_ I see so much strength in you. I know you'll turn out to be the man you're meant to be. _

_ Forever... your loving mother, _

_ Mary Parker _

A tear falls on the faded page, his mother's last words weighing heavy on him. A day old and on her deathbed, she had such faith in the word; such hope that he would take this world by storm. Peter’s fingers dig through the envelope, pulling out the only photo he had of his parents. They stand in front of their apartment building in New York, May and Ben right behind them matching their carefree smiles. The infected world took away that expression, the universe one by one taking out his family.

Through the broken pieces: he makes the new one, finds love, and yet…

The universe destroys it with a snap of its fingers.

And now months later he’s still trying to fix the broken pieces, only for another curveball to be thrown his way. Peter sniffles, opening the notebook to its first page fingers running across the faded golden engraving. 

_ Richard Parker _

May finally gave him this book on his eighth birthday, the letter and first few pages littered with the remains of his parents. The last thing he had of people he never met, people he would never remember. Their faces haunting his dreams and choices he makes day to day. 

Tony makes another noise, wind howling outside as a shiver creeps up Peter’s body. Quietly he packs up his things, a trip down memory lane bringing up emotions he longed to suppress. Exhaustion takes over him: early morning hunting and infected killing taking a toll out of him. He shuffles closer to the queen size mattress that Tony lays on, slowly crawling in on the other size. 

Peter pulls the other spare blankets over him, tired figure shifting closer to the one man that makes him feel safe in this hectic world. Silently he pulls his hood over his head, forehead resting against Tony’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered closed, the distance sound of wind and his mentors breathing lulling him to a much-needed slumber.

_ He finally feels safe. _

________ 

A cluster of loud voices startle Peter awake from his deep slumber, blurry eyes blinking away sleep. His brain takes a few moments to connect the dots, the sun filling the once dim room as the howling wind is barely heard. Beside him, Tony breaths normally still too out of it to be alerted by the new sounds. 

Another round of disgruntled men startles him out of the bed, rolling to the floor as he scrambles up towards the basement window. Panic pumps through him once more, small form climbing onto a rusty washer peaking through the tattered curtain. He squints at the sun reflecting off the snow, a string of curses escaping his lips as eyes focus on the group of men searching around the lakeside resort. 

“Oh  _ Fuck,”  _ He huffs shutting the curtain quickly as the group splits off into other cabins. “They tracked me.”

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

_ Of course, Stane wasn’t going to let him go. _

Scrambling back down, he stares as Tony’s sleeping form. He sighs, grabbing his bag then reloading his newly acquired rifle with ammo. He readies himself, weapons at the ready trying to come up with some solid plan. 

“I’m gonna draw them away from here,” He says out loud almost expecting his friend right there to spring into action. “I’ll come back for you.”

_ All he has to do is lead a highly lethal group of men away. _

_ No big deal. _

_ Fuck. _

With really no plan except to lead them away from this cabin and Tony, Peter quietly leads Karen out of the garage trying not to draw any attention to himself. Shutting the door, he hops onto the horse, urging her to ride with a silent whisper. They ride slowly into the open, his eyes wide as he watches two men stand in the street with their backs turned to him. He tries to clear the house, eyes staring at the two men hoping they don’t turn around.

“Killian, are we even sure he’s here?

“Man, there were horse tracks down the fucking street. He’s here.”

_ Damnit, he should have- _

Arms nearly push him off the horse, as he fumbles to stay upright. He gasps, eyes just catching the man trying his hardest to yank him off the horse. They fight with each other, Peter desperately trying to kick the man off him. 

“Hey, I got him!” The masked man yells still trying to pull him off the horse. They struggle for a few more moments, Peter reaching for his switchblade. “Get your ass over-”

He goes right for the jugular, blood splattering on his hands as the man's eyes go wide. He rasps out a surprised breath, gurgling on his own blood before slumping to the ground. 

“What are you waiting for?! Shoot him!”

“But Obadiah said-”

“Fuck Stane. I’m listening to Beck, shoot him  _ no w !” _

“ _ Karen, go!”  _

She takes off just as the first gunshot sounds off, totting at full speed through the decaying neighborhood letting Peter guide her. More gunshots linger behind them, more voices coming into the mix as all the men in the area are alerted to the sudden commotion. A few sprint after them, gloved hands desperately trying to latch onto his body. 

_ “ Aim for the horse--!” _

_ “Someone grab him--!” _

_ “Don’t let him get away--!” _

They make a sharp turn around the bend of a hill, speed slowing enough for a man in a tan coat to latch onto the side. Peter gasps, kicking and clawing at the man trying to keep Karen’s speed up. After a few moments of struggle, he lands a good kick into the man’s chest sending him to the ground. 

They press on through the chaos, more men coming out of the woodwork scrambling to fire their weapons or sprint after them. Peter weaves Karen through the houses, jumping over fallen trees thanking his lucky stars he had a crash course in horseback riding. It didn’t matter where he went at this point, it was all about leading these men far away from Tony. 

_ “Shoot the horse, shoot the fucking horse--!” _

_ “I’m trying--!” _

They pick up speed as they head towards the main center of the resort, bullets coming from all over. They ride through a wooden archway, gunshots now coming from in front of him. Peter doesn’t try to take notice, only pushing forward trying to get away. He tries to make Karen go faster, mid trot only to be stopped by a bullet.

Karen lets out a painful cry as blood splatters, head and body crashing to the side as Peter is chucked forwards down the rocky sides of the hill. They tumble down, crashing into a snowbank below with a heavy force. Snowflakes fill the air from the sudden impact, Peter landing on his back as his head spins. Through the whiplash he rolls over, hissing through the pain as he discovers another horror.

Karen, laying there unmoving as blood pours out of a wound in her neck. His gaze lingers, voice trying to urge her to get up only to realize she was long gone. 

“Shit, shit,” He curses, still staring at her body.

“Where is he?!”   


_ Ok change of plans, he can’t ride off into the sunset. _

_ He’s gotta take the long way around, back to Tony and hide this shit out. _

“He fell down the hill somewhere. I don’t see him, though.”

Peter takes off, sprinting towards the mass of cabins praying there weren't any more men hiding in this section of houses. 

________

Turns out, Stane had quite an abundance of men all way too trigger happy.

Peter barely got away from the men scurrying down the hill after him firing their guns recklessly. Instead of turning back, he had to take the long way around; through decaying cabins using the fallen walls and structures as covers. 

Like many times before, this situation becomes a game of cat and mouse. Bow in hand, he treks through the snowy resort silently taking out the clusters of men. He wanders through the main area, larger cabins sitting right beside the now frozen lake. Boats are littered about, all in different forms of decay forming some path towards the rec center and other guest locations that weren’t houses. 

Traveling through the remains of this resort, he can see the ghosts of the non-infected world bleeding through. People alive and enjoying themselves, not killing each other.

_ Oh, how different the world is now. _

Resorts like this were unknown tales he would hear growing up from any adults around him. All of them raving on and on about the joys of the old world: their yearning for the normalcy to return. But to him, a kid born almost five years into this mess, this was his normal. As shitty as it was, he had no idea how he could function in that old world. A world with actual governments, laws, and structure. Being a teenager, carefree in a world like that was something he could never see no matter how many times he heard it. 

And yet, he held the key to possibly ending this madness for good. Something within him, actively fighting against the infection that should have taken over his body long ago. By now, he should be some runner with spores sprouting out of his head. Hobbling form slowly shifting into the blind rage that was clicker. 

_ He should be dead, but he’s not. _

_ It has to be for this very reason.  _

_ Just like his mom saw. _

Through his wandering, he treks upward towards the trail heading around the lake. He didn’t care that this was a long way around, there was no way he was walking across ice over a large body of water. His ass would drown before he could even latch onto some ice. Near the beginning of the trail, he hunkers down behind a large sign with two familiar voices coming into focus. It’s the two men from before, both starting the gunfire that killed his horse. 

_ Assholes, Karen didn’t deserve that. _

The taller man looked more put together, blonde slightly graying hair slicked back with some hair gel like he had to be somewhere. He walks with a cocky attitude, an annoyed expression plastered across his face as the other much shorter and messier looking man fumbles behind him. 

“Killian, I still don’t get it,” The smaller man starts, pulled up sleeves relieving some horror flame tattoos spanning up his arms. “It’s just a kid, why are you so hellbent on killing him?”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” Killian huffs back, taking a look at the mess of the resort. "The last thing I wanted to do was look through this trash heap.”

“Obadiah said he wants him alive. You know how he gets.”

_ Why the hell did Stane want him so much? _

_ Creepy old man.  _

“Stane just wants another kid to brainwash, look what happened to the others.”

“He seemed pretty adamant on-”

“Yeah well, he doesn’t get to make that call,” He snaps frustration fuming off him. “Beck told me in great detail that this _‘innocent boy’_ Obie took a liking to is the same kid from the University.” He turns shoving a finger in the man’s chest. “How many of your little group were killed back there?”

“Oh shit,” His friend gawks, drawing his gun out. He checks the ammo, firing at the bunny running through. “Fuck this shit, I’m not taking a chance with that boy.”

“About time, now let’s find his kid. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Peter watches them travel back towards the carriage he left in a mad dash for the lake. Slowly sinking down and gazing at the trail, he studies his surroundings for a few more seconds. Finally moving around the lake once he knew the men were long gone. 

A quick jaunt up the concrete stairs and walking over a wooden bridge connecting the cliff sides, he comes to a mostly decayed walkway. Planks laid in the icy water, one solid plank acting as his only damn way over. His eyes linger on the dark waters below him, shaky breath leading him forward as he presses his back to the cliffside. Peter heaves, eyes almost shut as he shuffles to the other side gripping onto the walls for dear life.

“Don’t fall in the water, don’t fall in.” He whispers to himself holding his breath until he was safely on the other side. Once his feet shuffled onto solid ground, he heaved a sigh of relief. “O-Oh shit.”

He presses forward up the trail navigating through the grated areas with the dry drainage pipes. His small size allows him to crawl through the shortcuts, memories of his time back in Pittsburgh coming back. Peter sighs bitterly at the thought of his dead friends, the two people he wished were here to help him through his shitshow. 

_ He was tired of being alone, tired of people trying to kill him every damn day.  _

Crawling through the last pipe, he stumbles upon a large familiar lake house he noted when he did his first run-through of the resort. It’s faded green walls loom over the lake, multiple storage units with a tower-like add on contrasting with other smaller cabins behind him. His eyes then settle the wooden archways as he walks closer.

_ The way back, thank God. _

Carefully he sneaks down to the backyard of the large house, just reaching the cusp of the edge of the half wall when more voices linger close by. Peter freezes, cursing at his damn luck for more men to be over here. 

“Cover the grounds. Make sure the brat isn’t hiding somewhere over here.”

_ These assholes need to just go drown in the lake.  _

Waiting for the asshats to come towards him, he watches three men move in towards the backyard all holding their pistols. They fan out, each man not paying attention to where they went or the people that could be lingering by. Using the wall as his cover, Peter takes out his bow counting the arrows fully knowing to make every shot count. 

The first man comes towards his hiding spot, doing half-ass checks as he mutters to himself about how damn cold it was. Peter waits until his back is turned towards the four-wheeler, letting an arrow fly just as his other pal turns towards them. The first guy slumps to the floor without a noise, blood hidden behind the tires. The second man, inches forward, suspicious by the quick image he may have seen. He barely gets a few feet before an arrow sinks into his neck. 

He slumps to the ground, and Peter presses on. 

Retrieving his arrows, he finds a new cover behind a U-Haul inching around the vehicle as the last man starts to notice the spatters of blood. He doesn’t call out, only moving towards the vehicle hiding spot unaware of his presence. He quickly hangs his bow on his back, switchblade now in hand as he gets the jump on the man. Peter hops up, arms wrapping around the man’s neck, feet dangling in the air as he sends the knife right into the jugular. The last man falls and he gets the hell out of this area. 

Moving around the outskirts of the yard, Peter slowly inched his way up towards the house taking out more men in his path. Snow falls from the treetops, blood and kicked up dirt staining the once stark white hue. The chilly breeze moves the mostly frozen water, remaining sunlight reflecting off to create a glare. 

When he finally gets up to the house, his main exits are blocked by heavy metal gates. Although he could scale them, they were too tall and would draw all the men to him. Against his better judgment, he instead scales up the broken remains of a wall and hopes into the house. All the furniture remained; remnants of some wealthy owners scattered throughout the mess of decaying walls and broken windows. 

Not wanting to be trapped in here for long, he moved through the eerie rooms, his gut feeling telling him that he shouldn’t be in here. Deep down, he knows the house is an easy place to get trapped in but at this point, he just needed to get back to Tony. 

Suddenly, a gunshot shatters a vase right next to him. Peter scrambles to the floor, shocked as his eyes locked onto the two men firing from the outside. He curses loudly, diving for some cover fumbling to pull off his rifle. Stuffing files out from the couch he hid behind, both sides exchanging bullets until the two men are finally taken out. The last bullets echo in the halls, the drowning sound alerting many more men to his location. Gun in hand, he takes off towards the front of the house hoping not too many men heard. 

Turns out, he was wrong about that too.

Barely clearing one of the many living rooms, more men come out of their hiding places. Revengeful forms all trying to tackle him to the ground as he continues running. Stumbling over his boots, his free hand yanks a nail bomb out of his bag. He chucks it behind him, sharp objects hitting all the men as they scream. 

Peter sprints into the next room, the front door standing there in its decaying glory. He nearly cries, running to the door only blocked by a small wooden crate. Desperately, he pushes against the frame putting all his weight into it. The door moves slightly, the box just about to tip over when strong arms wrap around him. 

He gasps, limbs flailing out as he tries to fight against his attacker putting him in a chokehold. Peter’s gun falls to the floor, both of them struggling to get the upper hand in this situation. The grip around his neck tightens as the air escapes him, shaky hand yanking out his switchblade trying to stab the man behind him. The man only latches onto his hand, arm firmly around his next as he disarms the blade out of his hand. 

“Relax,” The familiar voice sends shivers down his spine, face losing color as his eyes widen. 

_ Obadiah.  _

The creepy man’s voice turns softer almost a whisper as he gets close to his ear. Peter rasps out a breath, panicking as he tries to flee from the man. He wanted nothing to do with this asshole and the men that all tried to kill him. 

“I’m keeping you alive, Kiddo,”

The pressure tightens slightly, Peter’s grip on Stane’s arms loosen as his head spins. His lungs beg for air, black dots filling his blurry vision. This causes him to panic more, body slowly giving in to man trying to knock him out. He flails his arms out again, rasping out as breath and word that almost sounded like ‘Tony.’ 

“Shhh, shh,” Stane whispers. “Just give in, I got you.”

Peter’s grip falls limp, eyes rolling back as blackness consumes him. Panic pumped through him in the darkness, body somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. Another breath escapes him, as Stane still talks to him.

“There you go kiddo, there you go.”

The last thing he remembers is the growing dread consuming him as he faded away into nothingness. 

________

The sound of a blade cutting against a hard surface brings Peter back to consciousness. He muffles a groan, a lingering pain forming around his neck as he lays on the cold ground. Rolling over to his side, his eyes squint at the direct sunlight, sawing sounds still echoing. He blinks a few times, blurry vision coming into focus as he takes in his surroundings. 

The first thing he sees is metal bars, vertical rows placed closely together in a towering wall. His eyes go wide, body more alert as his vision focuses on the man in front of him. His towering form hunches over a wooden table, dry blood staining the sides as he chops away. Peter silently moves towards the bars, fingers just peeking out as the man slides over his latest piece.

_ A human arm... _

Blood drags along the tabletop, pale limb falling to a mass of more below. It flops to the ground, other pieces of a body thrown to the wayside. The man continues chopping, figure just moving enough to the side to reveal the main horror on the table,  _ the rest of the body _ .

A panicked gasp escapes Peter before he realizes, the man coming to halt and slamming his butcher knife onto the table. The man laughs, form turning to reveal the familiar bearded face of the asshole he met hours ago, _Beck._ Quentin laughs chillingly watching his panicked eyes stare at the body in horror. 

_ Oh God, this wasn’t a group of revengeful men. _

_ They were a group of cannibals.  _

_ Fuck. _

Beck moves closer menacingly, running his fingers along the bloody table with a grin. His smile doesn’t break as he sucks off the blood off his fingers then licking his lips. Peter only moves further away, panic fully clutching itself around his lungs as his brain screamed for him to get the hell out of here. Quentin stares at his scared form for a few more seconds, shaking his head in disgust before moving away from his cell. The man sends him a wink, leaving the room with another chilling laugh. 

“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m getting hungry!”

The color drains from Peter’s face, his flight or fight mode kicking in as he springs upward diving for the cell door. He grunts as he pulls against the door, shaking the metal door as chains rattled on the outside. When the door doesn’t budge, his hands slip through the small gaps in the cell trying to claw at the padlock keeping him here. 

Nothing works and his panic only worsens. 

He paces the small cell up and down, scanning for any weak points in his damn cage. He curses when he doesn’t find any, trying the door once more with a fury. 

_ They took his stuff, took his weapons. _

_ He was left to their mercy, their hungry mercy. _

His aunt warned him of these types of people, a pained look plastered across her face as she recalls an old group just outside of New York. People desperate for food and supplies that the fallen zone never gave them. They turned towards the ways of the infected, letting that monstrous side unleash on innocent victims for their own personal gain. May told him to stay away from these types of groups and he just fell into the clutches of a rather large group of cannibals.

In the process of trying to find a way out, another familiar figure comes strolling in with a tray of food. Stane walks with a grin, evil intentions lying underneath as he starts to whistle a terrifying tune. Peter sinks in on himself, panicked form backing away from the man with wide eyes. 

“How are you feeling?

“Super,” He bites back, arms crossed over his chest staring at the creepy man than the torso laying on the table. 

“Here,” Stane slides the tray of food under the table, questionable substance mixed in with other canned vegetables. “I know you're hungry,” The man tries to seem like he’s worried for his well being. “You seem a bit thin.”

_ I was giving Tony most of my food. _

_ Oh God, Tony -  _

_ Please be ok. _

“What is it,” He huffs, growing nauseous at the thought of a cooked human sitting below him.

“Deer,” Obadiah chuckles, realizing the torso behind him. “Oh I forgot we had another body, Beck should have cleaned this mess up beforehand.”

“You act like this is a normal occurrence.”

“Humans have a certain flavor that pleases the taste buds,” The man smiles, fondly staring at the table. “You should try it.”

He almost puked right there. “You said it was deer.”

“With some human helping on the side.”

Peter kicks the tray, spilling the meal all over Stane’s boots with a disgusted look. “You're a fucking animal.”

“Oh no, no,” Obie shakes his head getting closer to the cell, yanking him forward by his jacket sleeve. His hands painfully dig into Peter’s forearm, keeping him close to the door with an evil glare. “That’s awfully quick to judgment. Considering just how men you and your friend killed.”

He spats in Stane’s face, only to be yanked towards the metal door roughly. His head hits the bars, ears ringing as the man’s grip only tightens. 

“Your men shot at us first, we didn’t have a choice.”

“And what do you think we have a choice?” Stane moves closer to his face, using his other free hand to yank his curls towards him. He holds Peter there as he struggles, staring at him with a fury. “You kill to survive and so do we. We have to take care of our own by any means necessary.” 

He challenges the man. “So now what? You chop me into little pieces?”

The anger within Obadiah subsides, the grip one his hair disappearing as the fake nice guy returns. “I rather not, please tell me your name.” Peter only scoffs watching bitterly as the man tries to show him some compassion. “See kiddo, I’ve been pretty honest with you. Now I think it’s your turn. After all, it’s the only way that I’ll convince the others.”

“Convince them of what?”

“That you, my boy can come around.” He watches Stane play with a strand of his hair, smiling like he offered a chance of a lifetime. “You have heart, you're loyal, and you're  _ very special.” _

Silence lingers between them, Stane trying to listen off more creepy compliments as Peter’s eyes drift elsewhere. Through the man’s ramblings, his gaze stumbled upon the ring of keys sitting on Obie’s belt rattling with each movement. Those had to have the key to his cell and all he needed to do was grab it. 

Acting like he was wooed with Stane’s words, he smiles taking his free hand and placing it on top of his wrinkled hand. The man only smiles back thinking he won him over in a short conversation, grip on his arm loosening. Peter taking his chance latches onto one of the man’s fingers, yanking in an unnatural way hoping for a break. 

Obadiah struggles through the pain, body trying to get away as he is pushed in a lower position popping out of socket. Peter recklessly reaches for the man’s keys, fingers just nabbing the ring when his grip on Stane’s finger disappears. Before he realizes, the man latches onto his arm once more, roughly yanking him towards the metal door. Roughly, he keeps pulling him against the metal with force, ramming his head until his fingers finally let go. 

Dropping to the floor, his ears ring as his vision comes back into focus. The room spins, a throbbing sensation coming from the side of his head. Stumbling to regain his footing, Peter manages to get up only to have blood gush from his nose. His lip stings, blood lingering in his mouth. He curses, holding the sleeve to his face watching as Stane mutters to himself in pain. 

_ The asshole deserves it.  _

Anger booms from the man, any pleasantries long gone. “You stupid little boy! You're making it very difficult to keep you alive!” Peter gets a glimpse at the man’s finger, bent at an awkward angle that seemed broken. Stane gestures to his hand, cursing once more. “What am I supposed to tell the others now?!”

He huffs, spitting the blood out of his mouth matching the man’s fury. “Peter.”

_ “What?” _

“Tell them that Peter was the little boy,” His voice grows an octave. “Who broken your  _ fucking  _ finger!” 

A fury blooms in Stane’s eyes, an evil grin matching Becks. He walks towards the torso on the table, grabbing the butcher's knife on the table. He slams it down in its chest, laughing before repeating the process.

“What did you say, little pieces?” Obadiah slams the knife down once more before returning to nurse his finger. “Seen you in the morning, Peter. I’m sure you taste divine.”

His blood runs cold, anger subsiding as the panic returns.

_ He’s fucked.  _

________

Miles away in a dingy basement, Tony awakens with a jolt. His breath escapes him, cooler temperature making him shiver as his confused form stares at the room around him. He barely recalls even coming here, last he remembers-

_ He got impaled and fell off a horse. _

_ Leaving the kid- _

_ Oh God, Peter. _

He jolts upward, blankets pooling at his waist as the pain in his side shoots all over his body. Tony curses, pained form stumbling off the lumpy mattress to the cooler concrete. He catches himself before face planting, fighting against his protesting body to rise to his knees.

“Peter?” His voice echoes in the small room, panicked eyes scanning the room. He attempts to stand, knees buckling as the pain shoots downward. “Kiddo?!”

After a few excruciating minutes of pushing his body, Tony finally makes it to his feet. He wobbles as he searches the room some more, slow form still trying to find its balance. His stiff limbs barely support him as he walks towards the far wall. Tattered pieces of paper caught his attention, the kid’s handwriting detailing what supplies they had. Besides that, his pack laid  _ alone.  _

“Peter?!” He tries once more only getting the howling wind as a response.

_ Kiddo, where the hell are you? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, there are only four more chapters 🥺 I can't believe we're almost to the end! Thank you all for the lovely support I've been getting! It means so much that you all been enjoying this story❣️


	21. The Hunters and the Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Besides the God awful pain shooting across his left side and the beginnings of a panic attack, Tony was doing pretty good for a man that should be dead. But as a man looking after a fifteen-year-old and cure to saving mankind?
> 
> He’s doing a fucking terrible job. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, torture, and guns

Besides the God awful pain shooting across his left side and the beginnings of a panic attack, Tony was doing pretty good for a man that should be dead. But as a man looking after a fifteen-year-old and cure to saving mankind?

He’s doing a fucking terrible job. 

After the attack at the university, his memories seemed to be quite jumbled. All he truly remembers is the throbbing pain and a large amount of blood escaping him. He can vaguely recall the kid’s rambles and panicked cries as his body goes through hell. Other than that, he has no idea where or how he even got in this damn place. All he did know was that walking up stairs was a pain in fucking ass and stitches were way too itchy for his liking. 

Slamming the basement door open, he stumbles into the kitchen with a painful heave. He steadies himself on the kitchen counter, remnants of the kid’s presence littered across the room. Bloody broken arrows lay by the sink, dirty dishes piling up within. The cabinets look on the verge of crumbling; hinges and structure caving in on itself. On the far end of his gaze, a mostly used roll of gauze lays; a note left in the kid’s messy handwriting remaining himself to conserve it.

_ Jesus, how long was he out? _

_How long_ _did he leave his kid alone?_

“Peter?!” He tries for the hundredth time, cursing as the howling wind sends a spine chilling breeze through the cracked window. He moves forward, hands fumbling with the gauze trying to wrap the damn thing around his side. “Where the hell are you?”

Tony lifts his shirt up, finally getting a good look at the carnage on his body. He lets out a deep sigh, fingers ghosting over the many switches. His side throbs, a slight discoloration appearing due to bruising. His gaze switches to other scars that were visible across his torso, each one detailing another painful memory he lived through. 

But this? He barely remembers anything after he passed out on Karen and hit the pavement. All he did recall was the pain and the kid’s panicked pleads. 

_ The kid had to stitch him up and drag his sorry ass around. _

_ He was failing miserably right about now.  _

Bitterly, he tears his gaze away from this injury, wrapping the damn thing in the last of the gauze. He heaves out another painful hiss once he finishes, stiff body trying to get back some feeling. His brain told him to lay down, to let himself recover but his gut feeling was overwhelmingly grim. The kid was nowhere in the house, the only contents of him actually being here was remnants of broken weapons and scraps of paper. 

Tony had no idea if the kid was just on a supply run or in grave danger. Peter could be surrounded by infected, chased by other groups, severely hurt, or even… His world spun at the thought, panic creeping up and around his lungs the more he played with that horrid image. He doesn’t waste any more time after that, pace increasing as he searches the ranch-style house one more time. 

When his search turns up nothing, he finds his way outside noticing just how much the seasons changed. He blinks at the white color taking over, cold breeze nipping at his nose as flurries danced around in the air. Last he saw was orange leaves and full trees but this was a vastly different season than he passed out to. 

_ Damn blood lost. _

Through the mass of snow, he spots a cluster of footprints vaguely still present. Boot and sneaker imprints took off in a mostly running pace, disappearing as the snow covered the remaining tracks. Tony walks down the driveway following the path to the center of the cul de sac, not a human or a freak in sight. He walks a few steps down the road of the eerie neighborhood, grey skies blocking any large amount of sunlight. 

“Peter?!” He calls out listening to his voice echo through air fading into nothingness. “Kiddo?!”

Tony takes a moment to find his footing, body finally getting used to his fast pace. He drifts to the side, eyes taking in the decaying structures and rusted cars. The wind howls, the only sound filling the ghost town of a place that should be filled with freaks. The more he looked, the cabins seemed like vacation homes mostly vacant when the infection hit. 

_ Still, he expected some form of life- _

A gunshot cuts off his train of thought, the bullet just grazing his leg as he recoils in shock. He scatters towards a fence, more shots sounding out as he just briefly catches a glance of the men firing at him. The wood splitters as each bullet impacts, men’s voices filling the air. 

“Found the other guy!”

_ Found the- _

_ Oh God, Peter. They found him. _

_ Shit.  _

Panic and anger are the first emotions to surface, parental instincts taking over as he grabs his shotgun. He whips around his hiding spot, firing at the men trying to knock each of them off. He manages to get one in the shoulder, success only short term before he’s hiding from the onslaught of bullets. 

“Where is he?!” Fury booms in his voice, only seeing red.

_ So help him if they touched a hair on his son--kid’s head.  _

Recklessly, he dashes from his cover towards a move central point in the road. He sprints towards a crashed van, diving just before any men can hit him. Catching his breath and ignoring the pain in his side, he returns fire as the men scatter at least five coming into his view. They try to flank him, three heading to the right and two the left. 

Tony takes on the three men first, firing some rounds off noticing the same wounded man trying to one-handedly fire at him. Swiftly, he grabs a nail bomb from his bag watching as the men inch closer. He waits a few moments, chucking the bomb their way wasting no time to return fire on the other two men to his left. The nails explode out of the bomb, all three men slumping to the ground with pained rasps. The other two men look in horror, distracted gaze becoming their downfall as he unloads on them. Their bodies hit the pavement without any issue, blood staining the white ground as he presses on. 

After taking out those men, he was able to make some ground before he stumbled upon another faction of men either fleeing or firing. Tony repeats his same question from before, demanding to know where his kid was. The men don’t respond, trying to take him out with panicked gazes. 

“Either way, you're gonna tell me!” He yells, chasing after the men into a random backyard. 

Using broken fence pieces as his covers, he changes guns to his newly required revolver sniping a few men. Blood spatters across the yard, bodies filling the once peaceful yet eerie neighborhood. Surging forward, he tackles one man from behind using his choice of brick to subdue him before chucking the bloody objects toward another asshole. He gets the jump on that man as well, slamming his head into the brick house before shooting him. 

Leaving the yard a bloody mess, he watches two men sprint back towards the main road. They stumble over bodies, cursing messes as they realize they're the only two left. Leading the way was a man with slick blonde hair, scrambling to push his friend with red tattoos out of the way. Tony follows after, his gun at the ready. He runs up the side of the house, jumping over the fallen trash can as his eyes scanned for the men. 

From behind, the man with the tattoos latches onto him, taking him by surprise. He makes Tony stumble back, hands just hitting his bad side to make him hiss in pain. They struggle as he fights to get control of his gun, refusing to drop it. The other man appears from the side knife in hand as he looks at him with disgust. 

“Alright, Eric just hold the asshole still.”

They both continue to struggle as the other man inches forward almost enjoying the fact that he would be killing him. Not wanting to be stabbed yet again, he fights with all his might. Eric is barely able to hold him still, cursing as he tries to gain control.

“Aldrich quit playing and stab him already!”

Taking a page out of Maria's book, he waits until Aldrich is just inches away to slam his metal toe boot right into the man’s dick. The asshole crumbles to the ground in pain, knife falling to the side as he curses. His buddy’s grip loosens just enough for him to ram Eric backward into the brick. Tony now free, whips around grabbing the tattoo man by the head and slamming him repeatedly into the house. Once the man’s face was a bloody mess, he lets him fall to the ground before walking over to the other asshole. 

Giving Aldrich no time to recover, he sends his boot right into the man’s face. Blood gushes from his nose, eyes going cross-eyed as Tony sends another blow to his face. Once the man stops fighting back, he grabs him from behind and drags him off. 

“You're both coming with me.”

“L-Let me...go,” The asshole slurs. “I’ll fuck you...up”

“We’re gonna have a nice chat, I'm sure of it.”

________

Finding shelter in another basement, Tony evokes some of his old methods of interrogation. It was a craft he learned over the years, something he and Rhodey hated doing. However, in cases evolving his kid, you better believe he’s taking everything up a notch. Blood caked the floors once he dragged the two men inside, tying both up but still in earshot of each other. 

He picks Eric first, a fury blooming in his eyes as his fists pound into the man’s face. He only sees red for a few moments, letting the man beg until he was sure he scared the other asshole behind them. The guy with the tattoos was a whimpering mess by the end of it, bloody and black eyes taking up most of his face. 

“What do you want?” Aldrich asks, fear laced in his voice. 

Tony stops, blood covering his knuckles as he turns to the man tied up in a wooden chair. Aldrich looks at him with terror, cocky ego long gone as he stares at the mess of his friend. He stands after a lingering silence, gripping his aching side as he stumbles over to his next interrogation. 

“You wait here,” He huffs out, fingers grabbing his knife before sliding over another chair. He sits down in front of the trembling man, eyes narrowing as he plays with the knife in his hand. “Now, the boy, is he  _ alive _ ?”

_ Please, please, please- _

“W-What boy,” The asshat sputters out. “I don’t know no boy.”

Tony stops playing with the knife in his hand, lips drawn in a tight line. He lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head almost amused. He leans back in his chair for a second, hand effortlessly plunging his knife into the kneecap of the lying bastard. Aldrich screams out panicked eyes watching as the blade only sinks deeper. The bastard tries to break free of his restraints, only making the blade twist deeper. 

“Fuck!” The man screams once more, a few tears escaping. 

Tony gets close and personal, slapping the man’s face a few times. “Focus right here asshole, or I’ll pop your Goddamn knee off.” He sees red once more, trying to rain it in until he gets answers. “I’m going to ask you one more time. The boy, _where the fuck is he?”_

Through tears, Aldrich nods sniffling as he tries to compose himself. “H-He’s alive. He’s Obadiah’s newest pet.”

That comment almost makes him gag, panic plaguing his thoughts trying to piece what this man exactly meant. There were so many scenarios of what he meant, horror stories he’s heard over the years of men taking kids with no repercussions. This was a lawless world with many fucked up people thriving in things no one should ever do. 

_ Hang on Kiddo, I’m coming.  _

Tony’s voice lowers an octave; softer and much more menacing. “ _ Where?” _

He twists the blade and pulls it forward before the man could respond, staring at him with no emotions. The man curses, heaving as the blade twists around waiting until it stops. He calms himself, trying to make eye contact. 

“In the town! In the town!”

Tony yanks the knife out with one quick motion, placing the bloody object in Aldrich's mouth. He shifts to the side, pulling out a map he took from Eric’s bag holding it up in front of his terrified face. 

“Now, you're gonna mark it on the map,” He gestures to the map then his mess of buddy behind him. “And so help me if it's not the same exact spot your pal points to, I will make you rue the day you were ever born.”

Aldrich nods tearfully, leaning forward to mark the map with a bloody point. He marks it, spitting the knife out with a panicked daze. 

“It’s right there, I promise.” The man counties on begging for his life. “You can verify it. Go ask him, it will be the same.” 

Remaining silent, he listens to the man promises some more, begging his friend not to fuck things up for them. Aldrich repeats the same sentence over and over, only stopping when Tony’s arms lock him in a chokehold. The man panics, struggling, trying to break free as the pressure increases around his neck. He rasps out a breath, body slowly giving in until his neck is snapped in an unnatural way. 

Aldrich's chair falls back, body hitting the floor as his glassy eyes stare off into space. Eric upon watching his friend die panics trying to free himself from his own restraints. Tony doesn’t respond, only grabbing his ax from his bag. 

“Fuck you man, he told you want you wanted!” Eric tries to sound intimidating. “I ain't telling you shit.”

“That’s alright,” He states walking calmly over to the man. “I believe him.” 

_ Hold on kid, I’m coming.  _

_ I’ll burn down the whole town if I have to.  _

_ Whatever it takes.  _

Eric watches in horror as Tony swings the ax upward. “NO WAIT-”

_ For Peter. _

The man is dead within seconds. 

________

  
Peter slightly stirs as footsteps echo around him, sunlight directly shining in his hooded eyes. He lets out a pained groan, a dull ache festering in his head from the beating he had yesterday. His face feels stiff as he expresses his discomfort, dried blood caking the left side. Shifting his position, his muscles protest as his stomach growls.

He hasn’t eaten since before his hunting trip, the one that got him in this mess to begin with. 

His cell door slamming causes his hooded eyes to open, hairs all over his body standing up as fear pumps through him. Beck suddenly appears, a devilish smile hovering over his body before the man slams a combat boot right into his chest. Peter stares at his menacing blue eyes, normal asshole looking face morphing into one of the sociopath. The air almost escapes him, aching limbs trying to fight against the man only to be struck back down into the floor. 

“Wakey, wakey, pretty boy,” Quentin sing songs, yanking him by the collar of his jacket. They struggle for a few seconds, both of them trying to get the upper hand. “Come on brat, stop fighting.”

“Get--!” Peter tries to drag his feet into the concrete floors, panicked gaze noting the now empty table that once held the dismembered torso. _“Off of me!”_

Obadiah obscures the view to the table, gaze matching Beck’s. The blues of his eyes are mostly gone, replaced by the endless black void of his pupils. Stane’s smirk turns into a chilling grin, the man enjoying the struggle in front of him. A chuckle escapes the older man, dried cracked hands reaching to brush Peter’s curls out of his face. Letting his hand rest there, he lets Beck stop the struggle long enough to marvel at the panic in front of him. 

“It’s such a shame you couldn’t come around, Petey.” Stane states, dark gaze lingering as he cups the kid’s face. “We would have been great friends.”

Peter’s blood boils, panic fueling his resentment for the man. He whips his head backward, headbutting Quentin in the nose. Obadiah moves forward to contain him, hand trying to cup his face once more. However this time, the man was met with a mouthful of teeth biting harshly down on his fingers. Refusing to let go, all three of them struggle with Beck recovering from the initial blow to his face. 

Stane, still loudly cursing, shoves his knee into Peter’s stomach with force. The older man follows that hit with two others, watching with a sly smirk as he crumbles to the floor. The murderous men taking their chance take the injured boy, yank and slam him onto the blood-covered table. Together they hold down one side, Beck latching onto the left and torso as Obie holds down the right. 

Peter tries to fight against their grip, watching with wide eyes as Obadiah fetches the bloody butcher’s knife from under the table. He struggles some more, pained and almost desperate noises escaping him as both men just laugh. 

Stane places the knife just centimeters above his neck, toying with him. “Oh, kiddo,” He hushes, moving the knife closer where the cool metal pressed into his neck. “I did warn you.”

Panicked and nearly on the verge of tears, words tumble out of his mouth. “I’m infected! _I’m infected!”_

Both men pause for a second, grip still tight but enough doubt in their minds to allow the knife to be drawn back. Beck gives his friend a look, a stern glare almost yelling at him for not checking in the first place. Obadiah, not as amused, studies Peter’s panicked gaze almost scoffing. 

“ _ Really? ” _

“And so are you…” He manages to huff off using his head to gesture to the bite mark on his fingers. 

Quentin falls into the story a little more, urging his friend to look as the man only scoffs. They bicker between themselves for a few seconds, both men debating on how factual this story was. 

With nothing to lose, he continued. “It’s right there,” He gestures to his right arm, breathing heavily. “Roll up my sleeve.”

“I’m not falling for-”

“ _ LOOK AT IT!” _

Stane rolls his eyes, slamming the knife right next to Peter’s ear smirking as he jumps from the sudden sound. “Alright, I’ll play along.”

Smugly, the man rolls up his sleeve, cocky comment falling flat as his own eyes go wide. Stane’s grip loosens, fingers ghosting over the pale pink bite mark on his arm. Both men study the bubbles forming in his skin, the slight discoloration forming around his forearm. They almost look horrified, taken aback by their discovery. 

“Everything happens for a reason, right?” Peter snaps. 

“What the hell,” Beck’s strong grip loosens, the man becoming much more troubled by the sight before him. “ _ Is that? _ ”

“He would have turned by now,” Stane studies his own fingers trying to keep a level head. “It can’t be...real.”

“It looks pretty fucking real to me!”

_ He never expected to be grateful to the runner that bit him but damn if this wasn’t a lifesaver. _

The men’s conversation blows up after that, their grips long gone as Obadiah focuses solely on his bite mark. Peter watches him panic for a second, back turning away and leaving the knife beside his head for the taking. Beck doesn’t move, one hand just barely resting on his shoulder as the man yelled at his friend claiming he was infected. 

Taking his chance, Peter launches himself upward knife in hand as he swings it towards Beck. Striking the man’s neck, the knife wedges itself within there; blood splattering out as Quentin rasps out a surprised yelp. The once annoying asshole crumbles to ground half-conscious as his hands tried to stop the gushing blood coming from his wound. 

Wasting no time, he rolls off the table scrambling to the floor as Stane whips out his gun. Two shots go off, Beck finally succumbing to wound and falling to the floor lifeless. Peter sprints towards the open door, pushing past the hanging deer trying to find cover before the older man shot him. 

Breathing heavily, he stands flat against the wall of the other room. It was much smaller in comparison, only room for one shelf with an assortment of supplies. Peter’s eyes notice a familiar blade stuck in the wood of the shelf, _his switchblade_. Blood covered and definitely used by someone but still a weapon. He grabs it as Stane’s taunts echoes from the room from hell. 

“You have nowhere to go my boy.”

It was true, the door leading out of this small room was right in the line of fire. 

“Might as well give up already.”

_ There is no way he is- _

His eyes linger back to the open window in front of him, mind forming a pretty reckless idea. Wind howling and snow obscuring the view, Peter just goes for it. Without a second thought, he pushes himself upward and out the window falling to the ground below. 

He hits the snow-covered ground with a roll, trying to break his fall from a two-story drop. The snow helps a bit, body crashing into a cluster as he scrambles away from danger. It didn’t matter that his knees or his face hurt, what mattered was getting the hell out of this place. A blizzard tears through the town, cold air nipping at his nose and making it difficult to see what was in from of him. 

Trying to find his bearings, a gunshot rained from above as Stane’s voice echoed. He scrambles to an alleyway he’s able to make out, finding some cover behind a brick building. 

“Where are you going, Peter?” Stane calls out firing a few more shots. “This is  _ my _ town.”

_ What the hell did he get himself into?  _

Jamming open a lock into the brick building, he hurries inside shutting the door behind him. He discovers the remains of a storage backroom, overflowing with files and supplies dating back years before he was born. He pauses for a few seconds, trying to calm his beating heart and to come up with a game plan. His weapons, his bombs, _his fucking stuff_ were God knows anywhere in this town. All he had at the moment was his switchblade and some Hello Kitty bandaids he just stepped on. 

_ Yeah, not an ideal circumstance.  _

_ Fucking cannibals.  _

So knife and Hello Kitty bandaids in hand, he pressed through the building hoping maybe this place had a gun. 

_ It didn’t.  _

_ It was a fucking pet shop… _

_ But the worst part? No cute animals.  _

Voices echoed in from the outside, more of these men coming to see what the hell was happening. Peter slowly inches towards an open window, keeping to shadows trying to overhear their conversation. 

“We heard gunshots!”

“He’s infected,” Stane’s bitter voice yells over the storm, anger growing. “The brat killed Beck and got out.”

“This is bad, Obie.”

“No shit!” The man’s voice booms.

Peter hops back into the alley trying to get far away from the crazy man. He treks a few feet before crawling into another shop. This time, he stumbles upon an electronics store; a whole bunch of stuff that wouldn’t work because of lack of cell towers and what Tony described as the ‘Internet.’

_ God, he hopes those assholes didn’t find him.  _

_ But he can’t dwell on that right now, he needs to get the hell out of here.  _

Stane’s voice comes back to the forefront. “-round up everyone who isn’t armed and get them to clear out. We’re gonna find that boy and we’re going to kill that worthless brat. Now everyone else fan out and find the piece of shit!”

More men cheer in excitement, three gunshots firing in the air as chilling remarks are shared. Most of them are the asshats grumbling about the lack of humans in their food: enough to make Peter almost puke right there. 

“It’s hunting season boys!”

_ Guess he’s bringing a knife to a gunfight. _

_ He’s screwed.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today by errr...1500 words maybe? Had to set for the events about to unfold. See you next week ;) We're in the home stretch now!


	22. Battle Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an eerie silence that filled the shop, the only sounds filling the void was the howling wind. It whistles through the sky, a blizzard raging on as Peter’s heart nearly erupts from his ribcage. He heaves out a breath, lungs recalling how to breathe without loud gasps. Panic pumped through him, the realization that he almost became lunch meat finally hitting him like a freight train. 
> 
> In front of him sits a mess disguised by the shadows of the room, a struggle depicted across the walls of how he almost lost that battle once again. The men’s voices linger back through the town, taunting remarks beckoning for him to come out and play. Shadows of figures break through the blizzard, threatening men waving guns around and shooting at anything that looked like him. Goosebumps cover his entire body, panic daze only staring at the mess and nothing else.
> 
> A mess of blood and a body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, Major character death, guns, and death

There was an eerie silence that filled the shop, the only sounds filling the void was the howling wind. It whistles through the sky, a blizzard raging on as Peter’s heart nearly erupts from his ribcage. He heaves out a breath, lungs recalling how to breathe without loud gasps. Panic pumped through him, the realization that he almost became lunch meat finally hitting him like a freight train. 

In front of him sits a mess disguised by the shadows of the room, a struggle depicted across the walls of how he almost lost that battle once again. The men’s voices linger back through the town, taunting remarks beckoning for him to come out and play. Shadows of figures break through the blizzard, threatening men waving guns around and shooting at anything that looked like him. Goosebumps cover his entire body, panic daze only staring at the mess and nothing else.

A mess of blood and a body.

A man lays just inches away from him, lifeless eyes staring directly at him looking deep into his soul. His switchblade still sits in the man’s neck, blood pooling to the floor staining the titles with its red hue. Peter shallows a lump in his throat, eyes glassy as he struggles to move from his spot. 

He’s killed people before but this was another realization overcoming him.

_ He didn’t feel bad, he actually full-heartedly believed that the man deserved it. _

_ He’s never felt this way before. _

_ Was he becoming a monster? _

The man had come from behind, much taller form tackling him to the ground before placing him in a chokehold. The evil man didn’t call out to his friends, only instead continued taunting Peter enjoying the struggle he put him through. Then the cannibal began listing off the ways he could have eaten him without skipping a single detail. 

It was only when Peter’s lungs begged for air that he took his blade and attacked. The blade swiftly strikes the man’s neck as he slumps to the floor bleeding out. Normally he would have left him there pressing on but something in him snapped. Panic and fear overwhelming him as emotions bubbled out of him as he used the knife to get out his frustrations. 

He stabbed the man ten times and didn’t realize.

Now blood-covered, he sits and stares, his brain just starting to come out of its troubling daze. He blinks a few more times, body moving forward to check the man for any useful items. Sniffling, he latches onto a small revolver trying to ignore the blood. He pulls away once he grabs the ammo, shaking form slowly moving away from the bloody site. More voices linger closer, brain telling him to get out of here pushing away those troubling thoughts into the darkest depths of his mind. 

_ God, he wishes Tony was here. _

Reluctantly, he presses forward. 

Easing past a few more men searching through the pet shop, he finds himself back outside in the storm. Sprinting as much as he could, he stumbles through another alleyway. Ringing over the storm was a jarring bell, alerting everyone that there was some intruder in their mix. The bell echoes all over, his thoughts wondering just how many infected might be drawn towards such a sound. 

_ Hopefully, he won’t have to know that answer.  _

Working through the heavy winds, he travels between more buildings trying to find his bearings. The storm made the line of sight horrendous, the onslaught of snowflakes stirring in the air making each object look like one another. A few barrel fires helped guide him through the town as he hoped he was somehow working towards the outskirts than into the belly of the beast. The last thing he needed was Obadiah sneaking up on him as the asshat did back at the lakehouse.

_ He needed to get the hell out of here.  _

_ Wherever “here” was.  _

Trying to be wary of his footprints, Peter was always checking over his shoulder making sure the wind was taking care of his tracks. He needed to move through the area swiftly and the less trackable clues were ideal. He couldn’t deal with the bodies he left in his wake, only moving far passed them hoping no one could find his path. By now he knew some people were probably guarding the exits but that was another thing to deal with.

Right now, he needed to find a way to an exit. 

Going minutes without any cannibal assholes, he stumbles into another wide area of the town. In front of him lay the remains of mail depo, mail trucks all lined in a neat row with stairs leading towards an office space. Moments later, moving figures dart above him as he huddles behind a truck. People move around, guns drawn as they talk in hush voices scanning the area. 

These evil assholes were everywhere. 

Slowly but surely, Peter works his way towards the enemies above. He weaves through the cars, allowing the first half of this cluster to come to him. He watches as the first man comes down; back turned and unaware of the small knife-wielding figure. He jumps him, knife jamming into the man’s neck before he could alert his friends. 

It was only when red began staining the white snow that a woman came into view. She held a gun, long hair tied up in a high pony keeping it out of her face. She wore a bandana up to her nose, piercing brown eyes just noticing the droplets of blood. Peter doesn’t let her put the pieces together, once more taking down another threat and wasting no time in getting out of there. 

The town’s bell echoed through the storm, distance sound acting as some indicator to an exit. More barrel fires come into view as he works up the stairs, eyes squinting to find a whole other part of the town. He moves forward with caution, still hearing voices up ahead hidden within what looked like the snow-covered remains of the residential sections of the town. Using the decaying structures such as fences and cars, he weaves through covers following the very people hellbent on killing him. 

Three figures appear through the storm this time, one man following behind two women searching the area inch by inch. Peter toys with the idea of using his gun, wondering just how many people were around to hear the shots. He only decides against it when the group split up, fanning far enough out for him to stealthily take care of them. 

He starts with the man first, smaller form jumping from the side before plunging his knife into his neck. Blood pools onto the white surface seconds later, his footprints leading towards one of the women trying to find some warmth by a barrel fire. With her back turned, Peter springs into action once more, taking her out swiftly. The other woman mostly kept to the stairway he came up, eyes squinting to see through the storm. Her body stayed in place where she could see all angles, making it mostly impossible for him to sneak up. 

Cursing, his hands fumble through the snow trying to find something to throw. His numb fingers ghost over an empty beer bottle, latching onto the glass. He aims it in a direction that gives him enough time to strike, chucking the bottle seconds later. Once the glass shatters against a wall, the woman’s head snaps up, gun drawn as she turns her back. Stealthy, she heads towards the source of the sound, unaware of his ruse until a blade is in her neck. She rasps out one more painful breath, slumping to the ground seconds later. 

Breathing heavily, Peter scans the area once more. His body trembled from the cold, emotions pumping through him as he struggles to find the remorse for these people. Deep down he knew they had friends and family within this group, people that needed them. And yet, the whole cannibal and trying to kill him aspects seemed to ease his mind just a little bit. 

These people  _ ate  _ people, they were no different than the freaks that roam about. 

_ Except maybe that they have human emotions and functions that the infected- _

He pushes that thought aside, listening to the bell mixing in with the howling wind.  __ He couldn’t linger in one place for too long, there were still too many people armed with every intent on killing him. It didn’t matter that he was having some mid-life crisis way too early, that could wait when he was safely back with Tony and not in the clutches of Stane. 

With that final thought, he returns back to traveling through alleyways praying he was heading in the right direction. 

It was only after a few long minutes of drowning bell ringing, that Peter found himself back to sneaking through buildings. Most of the alleyways stood gated, some even padlocked to direct unwanted threats to a certain area. Not wanting to follow that set path, he climbed through windows sticking to shadows until he could cover more ground through another back alley. This was when through his travels of building hopping, he stumbled across two men searching about. They muttered to each other about the weather, bitching about their leader for making them hunt down some infected kid. 

“What if he bites someone?” A man with a smoker's voice rasps out. 

“Relax,” A younger man replies, more life in his voice. “He’s not biting anyone, Stane said the bite looked pretty fresh.”

_ Well, he sort of already bit someone… _

_ He kinda wished to see how that turns out.  _

_ The asshole deserves to be infected. _

“I know you're new and all,” The old man rasps out with a judgmental tone. “But nothing about Obie’s demeanor displayed anything about a fresh bite. I’d give it a few more hours before we have a runner in our midst.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. We just have to stay focused and find the infected kid.”

“I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“You say that every day, Garrett.”

Peter manages to slip into the building unnoticed, weaving his way through broken arcade machines as their conversation continues. He watches the Garrett guy take a seat in the back corner of the room, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as his friend sighs in defeat. They bicker among themselves, completely unaware of his small form slipping through the front window into what seemed like the main stretch of the town. 

A movie theater sits right across; the movies from twenty years ago still displayed out front, rusted letters still hanging on. He doesn’t dwell on the sign too much longer, weaving around leftover cars wary for any other people lurking about. A school bus blocks half of the street, his cover slightly blown as he tries to work around the awkward angle. 

The snow comes up to his ankles as he stumbles through a parking lot, cursing as yet another gate blocks his way. Peter almost turns back, stopping dead in his tracks as the two men from the arcade finally come back outside. He sighs searching around the lot, eyes just catching an open window sitting above a dumpster. He quickly hopes on top of the rust thing, scaling up the wall and pulling himself inside. 

When his feet hit the floor, heaves out a much larger breath. The office space he landed in wasn’t as decayed as the others, instead, it was still functional and much warmer than the blizzard. As always, there was some sign of panic left in the room’s wake; scattered papers and broken computer across the floor. However, upon moving through the back rooms to the front, he discovered that no threatening people were even inside.

Peter lets his guard down slightly, crouched form standing up as he took in the soft lanterns lighting up the main room. Walking towards the center, he finds a restaurant still intact after all these years. The soft light eases him a bit more, pleasing memories of him and Tony crashing in place all too similar to this. 

They were on their way to Rhodey’s, just two weeks after leaving Pittsburgh. Walking all day through the decaying roads put a toll on them, tired forms taking shelter in some eighties-style diner. For the first time in weeks, they had their meals at a table trying flat soda to see what still tasted good. It was reckless fun and yet, it was one of the first times Peter saw Tony fully put his guard down. 

And now they're miles apart with his mentor still recovering from his injuries as he tries not to die by the hands of cannibals. 

_ This world was all kinds of fucked up. _

Trying to enjoy the last few moments of warmth, Peter finally made it to the front of the restaurant. The storm still made things hard to see, streets showing no sort of ending but the bell had stopped being so loud. He was headed in the right direction, a few feet away from clearing this God awful town. He pulls out his gun this time, wary of people being right outside. 

He opens the door without a second thought only a step outside the door when a body slams into him. Peter stumbles back in surprised, taller form already latching onto his arms preventing him from attacking. They struggled back into the warmth of the restaurant, his eyes finally able to see his attacker. 

_ Obadiah. _

The older man gets close and personal to his face, warm nasty breath breathing on him. “You're really easy to track kiddo.”

_ Fuck.  _

Peter shoves the man forward, trying to keep his gun as he’s slammed into a side table. A lantern shattered to the ground from their movement, fire crackling up the wooden table as Stane yanks the gun from him. He's then kicked to the ground, rug burn forming on the side of his face as he stared into the barrel of his gun. 

“So tell me pretty boy,” Stane smirks, cocking the weapon. “How the hell did you-”

The table bursts into flames drawing the man’s attention. He lowers the gun, panicked gaze locking onto the fire as he tries to stomp out the flames. Peter takes this distraction as his chance, scrambling towards the rows of tables for some cover. When the older man curses and notices the lack of the kid, he only laughs still supporting his shitty ego.

“That’s alright,” Stane’s menacing voice echoes through the room. 

He then turns towards the front door, taking his set of keys and locking it. Then turning with the gun raised, he slowly stalked towards the assortment of tables. 

“There’s no way to go little one, the only way out is through these keys.” The man mocks him by waving the keys around, letting the jiggle of the metal echo. “I would say just give up now, but I’ve always liked chasing after my prey.”

Another lantern erupts from the flames, Stane only laughing with glee as he searches through the rows of tables. Peter crouches behind the half walls of each section, scrambling to get away from the man wielding the gun. He only had his knife again but this time he was trapped in a room growing with flames with every second. He had to get those keys and get the hell out of here now.

And thus began one of the worst games of hide and seek he’s ever been in. 

Although the restaurant seemed vast at first glance, there was practically no way of getting to the back rooms without being seen. Stane had this place on lockdown, the man on his heels at every moment; only inches away from his hiding form. At one point, he was crawling under tables, shallow breaths trying not to give away his panicking form. 

Smoke filled the room as quickly as the flames did, heat growing as his lungs started to ache. He curses in his head, begging his body not to slip into an asthma attack. Not when he was literally hiding for his life. He didn’t have any inhalers on him and this smoke was not making anything easier. 

After traveling around the clusterfuck of danger this room threw at him, Peter was able to get into some groove with his hiding. He soon learned to tail the man, keeping his covers as Stane turned each corner with a wild look in his eye. The older man didn’t stop there, only instead ranting to him about what he could of had here if he wasn’t such a stupid brat. The details pour out of Obadiah, a proud smile spreading across his lips about the beauty of his town.

The people.

The food.

The relationships.

_ He almost puked three times during this rant. _

However, through his panic about fetching keys, Peter fully let his anger take over when Stane began smugly talking about Karen. 

“Oh and Petey? I’m really sorry about your horse, truly am. Serves you right for running from us, from this amazing opportunity.” The man rounds the corner as Peter follows behind, knife slowly slipping into his hand as his blood boils. “I do hope you take comfort in knowing that we won’t waste her meat. Although it isn’t you, your horse would be a fine trophy for-”

Peter sprints full speed at the man, knife raised as he jumps him. He yells, before stabbing deep into the assholes upper side; right under the collar bone dangerously close to the neck. He listens to the man scream in pain, twisting the knife to make the wound worse. 

_ This is for Karen you piece of shit. _

Obadiah elbows him in the stomach as he curses loudly, fury blooming in his eyes as he fires his gun like a mad man. Peter scrambles away, knife in hand as he just catches the crimson stain growing through the man's denim jacket. 

“That was good, kid,” Stane bites out through pain, throwing the now empty gun to the ground. His eyes grow dark, good arm reaching back for a rather large and blood-stained machete. “But not good enough.”

Peter takes off for his next cover.

By now, most of the front wall is covered in flames, crackling fire burning the wallpaper and curtains. The smoke grows, ash falling to the floor as the mad man hobbles around with every intent to kill. Stane only urges him to come out, a pained and bitter voice demanding he stops playing games. 

“I promise it’ll be quick-”

“If you don’t come out now so help me-”

“Fine you wanna watch me chop off each one of your limbs-”

“Maybe I’ll start with your ears, maybe your fingers-”

The taunts continued, the man slowly losing any composure as his anger grew. At one point the older man begins whacking at tables, letting his blade sink into the wood as he laughs. Peter lets this continue as he dashes from wall to wall, eyes carefully seeing how long it takes the man to remove his blade from the table. Finally, after watching Stane struggle to get his blade free, he charges for the keys only to come up short. Obadiah got his blade, stumbling back leaving enough time for him to stab to the side. 

Peter scrambles off as the man curses loudly, a deep chuckle escaping him soon after. 

“Run, little rabbit, run.”

A mad chase ensues after that, Stane no longer letting him hide. The man sprints after him, blade held high as he clutches his side. Blood covers the man’s clothes now, crimson hue bringing out his disturbing features in the low light. Peter dodges attacks left and right, nearly running into flames as the whole room becomes a hunting ground. Weaving around the room, he comes up with a plan to strike, noticing how the man moves and attacks.

Peter was faster than him, he knew that much. All he had to do was cut him off and attack before the man could. 

Nearly getting his head chopped off a few times, Stane through his pain finally showed an opening. Peter took his chance, stabbing pretty close to the same spot as he did beforehand. They struggle as he tries to move the knife closer to his neck, flames erupting once more as another lantern breaks. Just as he thinks he has the man, Obadiah rams him into some tables before latching onto his jacket. 

The next thing he knows, he is being body slammed into another table. The wood actually splinters beneath his impact, head smacking against the tabletop. The man latches onto his coat again, this time throwing him to the floor as his world spins. His head and ears ring, blurry vision just making out the Stane passing out on the floor next to him. 

Peter’s brain tells him to move, to grab the keys and get out of there. But his body doesn’t move, only staring at the growing flames and the madman just inches away from him. His world spins once more, head lulling to the side as blackness consumes him. 

________

Another blizzard rages through the area moments after Tony left the resort. Dark grey skies cascading an onslaught of snow whirling around in every direction. The location of the town becomes a mystery at one point, the paper map almost taken away by the strong breeze. The men he integrated never lied but what they failed to disclose was just how many miles away this place was.

Tony found himself hiking through backroads and trails, heaving as his body begged him to rest. His side wasn’t as healed as he liked it to be, still painful when walking let alone hiking up an incline. 

But he wasn’t going to stop, he needed to find his kid. 

Working through the storm and pain, Tony eventually managed to stumble upon the outskirts of the town. Although he could only see the shadows and outlines of the buildings, what drew his attention was the jarring bell echoing over the wind. It sounds like an alarm, a panic bell alerting the people within about some threat. 

_ Peter, what have you gotten yourself into? _

His pace picks at the sheer thought of the infected nearby hearing this noise, the town’s defenses not as reinforced as he pictured. This certainly wasn’t the shitshow in Pittsburgh by any means, but nevertheless these people were still a threat. 

They took his kid and now they have to pay. 

When Tony finally makes it past the unguarded blockades, he wanders through the town. An eerie feeling lingers, the town resembling more of a ghost town than a community. This was nothing like Rhodey’s, this place was empty lacking any forms of life: human or infected. It was only when he was passing by a snow-covered gas station that somehow hasn’t exploded, that he heard the stern voices bickering among each other.

He finds cover behind a windowless car, cold wind nipping at his face as the voices come closer. He peaks around the vehicle, squinting and focusing on the three figures trying to find some warmth by a barrel fire. Their bickering still continues, two men decked out in ski masks bitching to a woman in a tackle vest. 

“This is pointless, I can’t see shit,” A much older man rasps out in a grainy voice. He mutters something under his breath trying to shield himself from the wind. 

“Jesus, Garrett,” The other younger man replies. “Quick your bitching, I heard enough of it at the arcade.”

“Oh really?” The woman cocks her head to the side scoffing. “Says the man who just bitched about the cold for five minutes straight.”

“Just-” The man huffs in defeat, shoving the older man roughly as he barks with laughter. “Keep searching for the kid. If the brat comes through here, we gotta catch him. Obie will have our heads if we let him escape.”

_ Peter was alive and running around somewhere. _

_ Maybe the universe wasn’t so cruel.  _

“You know what we really should be doing?” Garrett starts up again. “Guarding the shelter. We have some infected boy running around and we’re looking at him in this shitshow.”

The woman butts in this time. “It’s not my fault that Stane takes a liking to teenagers. The man is a creep with tunnel vision.”

Growing sick by the conversation, Tony waits until all three of them are distracted to make his move. He lets them linger by the edge of town, stealthily working his way across the street and out of earshot of the group. They didn't notice him in the storm, barely anyone did as few other men walked towards the barrel fire the others were huddled around. The bell drowned out their conversation, more people looking rather displeased that they’re out in this weather. 

_ Serves the assholes right for kidnapping his kid in the first place. _

_ And this Stane character brought nothing but anger to him, fingers itching to punch the living daylights out of the man.  _

Trekking through the ankle-deep snow, Tony managed to get through the town undetected. He weaved through cars, sticking to the sides of buildings when he could, trying to find some indication of the kid. However, his search came to a sudden halt as he rounded the corner, eyes landing on the cluster of people. From what he could see, there were eight in total: all heavily armed and searching every inch of the place. 

Quickly, he finds another crashed car to hide behind, a red jeep with mounds of snow laying in inside. He then watches the people move about, fishing out a nail bomb he thankfully had. Tony waits until most of the group bunches together, using the fires as warmth as they regroup. Five in total stay together, the other three too spread out. 

Wasting no time, he chucks the bomb their way watching as two of the five notice the tin can land near them. They bend down to investigate, actions cut short as a large number of sharp objects and nails exploded over them. All five scream in pain, the closest two dropping dead without a word as the other three rasp out in pain. One woman clutches her large wound in her side, eyes rolling in the back of her head before collapsing onto the snow. Beside her, the other woman follows suit both trying to crawl to some sort of safety before the blood loss wins the battle. The snow around them becomes a dark crimson, the remaining three yelling to each other in panic. 

They fire a few rounds in random directions, two just hitting the side of the Jeep as he hides behind it. Tony wastes no time after they stop firing; shotgun in his hand and loaded. He rests it on the back of the vehicle, glancing through the scope before he fires. The takes out the closest man first, a headshot scaring the other two as they scramble for cover. They return fire blindly, every bullet not coming close to his hiding spot. He fires at them once more, shooting the guns right out of their hands before taking care of them for good. Their bodies hit the ground as they joined the pile of bodies, lifeless eyes staring off into space. 

_ He really needs to thank Rhodey for making him brush up on his shooting. _

_ His stubborn ass really needed lessons.  _

The bell echoing over the town draws him out of his thankful thoughts, body pressing further into the mess of the snow-covered town. 

Tony uses the barrel fires to guide him, using them as markers as he stumbles around their small defenses of blockades filled with barbed wire. It allows him to see people through the storm, eyes tracking their movements before they can see him. It becomes a game of cat and mouse as he stealthy walks behind them, silently taking them out with a shiv or his ax. He moves on before the pool of blood grows vastly large, just leaving enough space between him and the bodies. These people only thought the kid was their only threat and that needed to stay that way until he could find Peter. 

No matter how much he traveled towards the belly of the beast, no one was getting between him and his kid. 

And his plan was working pretty well until he came upon a whole horde of people lingering all over. Their forms covered the whole next section of the town, heavily armed guards standing in front of buildings he assumed were shelters. More people joined the mix, some loaded with weapons or just holding one gun. Either way, he was blocked off and completely outnumbered. This wasn’t a small group of people, this was at least two dozen townsfolk and he didn’t have enough ammo or bombs to cover this. 

Tony almost backtracks when he hears the commotion behind him, a few voices calling out saying they stumbled above their dead friends. Head snapping towards that direction, a few grabbing their weapons and running with haste. He curses before stepping into an alleyway, sprinting down the path before a group of heavily armed people saw him. A brick wall looms over him as he reaches the end of the path, panicked gaze searching around before landing on an open door. He practically dives inside after that, slamming the door as he listens to people trying to figure out what happened. 

Taking precaution, he locks the door letting out a deep breath as the panic subsides a little bit. He takes in the dark room before him, flicking on his flashlight when the small window of daylight doesn’t cut it. Two large shelves come into view, one lined with rows of shoes in different sizes. They span from adult to children, all lined up neatly as they shift over to the other shelf of an assortment of boxes. He turns to find another shelving unit, this time littered with hordes of clothes and a backpack covered with-

_ Star Wars pins… _

His hands latched onto the bag instantly, scanning the pack to discover that everything inside was still there. Peter’s makeshift ax lays beside some clothes; the arrows and bow sitting just a few inches over. Tony takes the weapons and straps them onto his pack, shaky hands gripping the bag tightly. The kid never parted with this thing, he was rather protective of everything inside; from his journal to other meaningful items, he would fight tooth and nail for this pack. 

And yet, this bag was sitting here in a shelving unit that didn’t seem like a storage area. Tony instead got Hydra Hunter flashbacks, mind lingering back to the image of a dead body laying on the table. 

_ Shit did they run into more hunters? _

_ Was Peter even... _ __  
  


Uneasy, he searches the room for anything else of Peters, double-checking the shoes and clothing. Instead of his kid’s items, he finds some lists written in messy handwriting. In bold letters, it simply says ‘ **Meat Haul.’**

Curious he reads the list.

**_3/23: 494 lbs_ **

**_4/10: 1233 lbs_ **

**_5/8: 4700 lbs_ **

**_6/18: 5140 lbs [BIG HAUL!]_ **

**_9/29: 1630 lbs_ **

**_10/2: 307 lbs_ **

Tony continues to read through the list, brows furrowing by just the sheer amount of meat they got. By no means has he ever gotten over a thousand pounds of meat from hunting and yet these people were loaded with food. He crumbles up the note and throws it aside, curious about just how skilled these people were at hunting animals. 

_ If he was able to take down so many people how are they scoring this much food? _

Through his flickering light, he finds the exit to the storage area, pushing pass plastic flaps hanging from the doorframe. They remind him of some butcher’s shop, plastic keeping the freezer’s cool air inside. He chuckles expecting to see deer hanging from the ceiling, wanting to see this vast display of their hunting skills.

And he did, it just wasn’t animals.

It was fucking people. 

_ He’s in a town of fucking cannibals. _

Tony’s mouth hangs open in horror, wide eyes taking in the dead bodies shackled by feet and hanging from the ceiling. Their clothes were gone, only some wrappings coving their naked bloody bodies. Their faces are covered by the same blood-stained fabric, the wall lines with assortment of butcher tools. He nearly pukes right there, stomach turning at the sheer thought of people eating... _ people. _

Throughout his twenty years in this world, he’s heard the horror stories of these groups, witnessed men going mad and turning to this extreme, and yet he’s never stumbled into a food supply of actual cannibals. 

_ The kid was taken by cannibals, they were going to- _

He swallows the bile in his mouth, panic working its way around his lungs. Every hair on his body stood up, form shaking at the sheer thought of the kid hanging from the ceiling like these men were. 

_ He’s gotta find him, he needs to find him now.  _

Wasting no time to get out of this wretched place, Tony finds himself in the front of an old butcher’s shop. Everything is cleared out, windows boarded up blocking any light inside. It’s the perfect hiding place to store people, no wandering eyes to peek inside and witness the horror. Gripping Peter’s bag tightly, he moves back outside; a sudden wave of heat and sulfur washing over him. 

Tony blocks the snow and ash from blowing into his eyes, gaze landing on the massive structure erupting with flames. Flames take hold of the front of the restaurant, smoke filling the air as a bad feeling sits in his gut.

_ This wasn’t just any fire, Peter had to cause this somehow. _

_ And he might still be in there.  _

“Hang on, Kiddo,” He whispers sprinting towards the burning building. “I’m coming.”

________

The crackling of flames and horrid smell of sulfur cause Peter to stir. Heat washes over him, aching body protesting as he moves an inch. His ears still rang, head pounding as his eyes fluttered open. He takes in a wheezy breath, lungs warning him of an one coming asthma attack. 

His situation doesn’t hit him until he hears a man’s pained groans beside him. Peter's head slowly falls to his right, body tensing at the sight of Stane stirring himself. Eye widen and bloodshot, he wheezes once more as he tries to find his footing. He falls to his knees as the pain in his side aches, a deep bruise brings tears to his eyes.

_ He needed to get out of here. _

_ But he needed the damn keys.  _

Painfully he goes to grab the keys from the man, stopping as he watched Stane make eye contact with him. He freezes, panicked gaze searching around for a weapon as the mad man began getting his bearings. His eyes catch the fallen Machete under a chair a few feet away, weak form slowly crawling towards the object. 

Peter takes a few deep breaths as the smoke and heat grow, lungs begging for air as his blood-covered gloves crawl their way up the carpet. Behind him, Stane only chuckles evilly, injured form hobbling over to his weak one. The man watches him crawl desperately for a few more seconds, laughing as the steel toe boot slams into his stomach. 

The air is knocked out of him as he rasps out in pain, his arms give out, face hitting the floor. Obadiah grabs his hair roughly yanking backward before slamming his face into the carpet. His nose begins bleeding from the impact, brain screaming at him to get away. 

_ Come on Peter, get up! _

Somehow, he finds the strength to pull himself up slowly clawing his way over to the blood-covered blade. Stane only laughed once more, watching him with pity thinking he was still trying to get away. 

“I knew you had heart Petey,” The man sneers watching him. “You know, it’s ok to give up? There’s no shame in giving in to the inevitable.”

_ Keep going. _

Peter crawls some more, eyes going glassy as his body aches all over. It takes him a few more moments but he suddenly inches away from the blade, well aware of the older man’s still linger behind him. 

“Hm, I guess that isn’t your style then huh?”

Seconds away from grabbing the blade, Stane kicks in his gut once more. Peter falls to the ground with a wheeze, rolling to his side trying to catch his breath. Obadiah finally gets on the ground with him, latching onto his hair and slamming his face into the wood. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear you beg.”

“Fuck you,” He snaps back trying to push the man off of him. 

Stane roughly yanks his body into his back, hovering over him with a dark glare. They struggle as he tries to break from the man’s grip, watching in panic as his anger grows with each passing second. 

“You think you know me huh?” Obadiah places both of his hands around Peter’s neck, a fury raging in his gaze. The man squeezes until he’s struggling for air, smiling as the pain flashed across his face. “Well let me tell you something.”

Peter panicked breathless, his free hand searching for the knife. His hand flails about, terror growing as black dots fill his vision. They struggle against one another, the older man winning the battle as he applies more pressure on his neck. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

In a last-ditch attempt, his fingers graze the handle of the blade. His eyes go wide, desperately clawing at the weapon until he’s able to fully grip it. He wheezes as Stane rants above him, anger taking over the panic as he swings the blade towards the man’s hand. The Machete cuts into Obadiah’s hand, the asshat hollering out in pain as Peter uses all his might to kick the man off him. 

Once free of the man, he’s quick to pop up anger pumping through him. He raises his blade up like before, swinging towards Stane’s face. The man only yells out in panic and pain, blood splattering everywhere. Peter doesn’t stop there, overwhelming emotions pouring out of him as he screams.

He slams the blade down. 

_ For Karen. _

Blood splatters onto his face. 

_ For Tony. _

He picks up speed, blade repeatedly hitting the man’s bloody distorted face. 

_ For all the people you killed.  _

Peter screams once more as he continues stabbing, wheezing breaths not stopping him until the man got everything he deserved. 

_ “Peter!” _

He barely registers the voice behind him, the blade still in motion until two arms wrapped around his torso. He panics when the blade gets stuck in Stane, his body pulled away from the carnage as he claws at his new attacker. Peter doesn’t put up much of a fight, too light-headed to add any real force to his flailing arms. 

_ “Stop-!” _

“No!” He screams out trying to scramble away, tears freely rolling down his face. His voice breaks, rasping as he tries to add power to his words. “D-Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Shh, shh,” The familiar voice tries to calm him, panic in his own voice. “It's okay-”

“No-!” Peter tries to scramble away again, only to be pulled back by the man trying to ease the situation. His vision goes blurry with tears, an ugly sob escaping past his lips. He gives in to the man tugging him away from a lifeless Stane, turning around to face his attacker. “P-Please-”

“Kiddo, its-”

He nearly claws at the man’s eyes, sobbing as he tries to get away. He didn’t want to die, he just wanted to go home. 

_ “Kiddo!” _ The man’s voice registers enough in his head to get him to stop. He wheezes out another sob, tears falling onto the carpet. The man gently places his calloused hands on his bloody and tear-stained face, steadily getting his head to look at him. “It's me. Just me, come on breathe.”

Through his blurry gaze, his eyes focus on the man before him. Familiar brown eyes and scruffy beard sitting right in front of him. He takes another deep breath, a louder sob escaping once he realizes who was in front of him.

_ Tony, alive and breathing.  _

“T-Tony-” Peter’s words come out in more of a wheeze, lungs still begging for some relief. 

Tony’s eyes widen, one hand slipping away from his face to dig through a bag set on the floor next to him. His mentor pulls out his inhaler, softly coaching him to breathe before using it. Peter’s hands tremble as he takes in a few puffs, sobs and sniffles still wracking his body as he tries to breathe. 

“Hey, hey,” His mentor, practical savior hushes, both hands returning to his face trying to wipe off the blood and tears. “Breathe, for me Peter, just breathe.”

“H-He tried to-” More emotions bubble to the service, the last two days of horror replaying in his head. 

Tony gently brings his sobbing form into his chest, strong arms wrapping around him like a safety blanket. Carefully, he runs his fingers through Peter’s matted curls kissing his forehead. 

“Oh, baby boy-” His mentor mutters something else into the crown of his head, safe presence calming him down. 

“ _ Dad,”  _ The name leaves his mouth before he realizes, lip wobbling as he clutches onto the man for dear life. “Don’t leave me-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” His dad grows emotional himself, voice wavering as he hugs him tighter. “I’m here, Dad’s here.”

They stay in each other's arms until Peter’s sobs and whimpers turn to sniffles. The fire still rages on around him, crackling flames getting too close for comfort. Tony is the first one to break the hug, gentle hands cupping his face not letting him focus on the body behind him. He coaches him through his sobs, calm voice breaking through the chaos. 

“Kiddo, we can’t stay in here,” Tony whispers, wiping away a stray tear. “It’s not safe.”

“How- I- You-” His words become mush in his mouth, reeling thoughts clouding his mind. 

“Hey,  _ hey. _ ” His dad hushes, urging him away from the table now combusting with fire. “Breathe for me." He watches Peter catch his breath, slowly helping up his injured form off the ground. He takes a good look at him, kissing the side of his head. “We’re gonna get out of this hellhole.”

With one arm wrapped around his waist, Tony hands him his bag watching more tears well up in his eyes. He sniffles, trying to hold back the sobs until they were out of the town, emotions dangerously about to spill out once more. 

His eyes lingered back to Stane with the machete still sunken in the man’s face. Peter grows sick, stomach curling at the very image he created. A burst of human anger, destroying a man with a single blade. His dad only steers him away from the scene, voice soft and trying to get him to leave the burning building. 

“Just keep breathing for me, Iron Man is going to get us out of this mess, okay?”

Peter can only muster up a nod as he’s led outside back into the raging storm. The cool air nips at his face, tear stain skin stinging as they walk. No one else seems to be around the burning building, any forms of life still on the other side of town. A sudden crack of wood draws both of their attention back to the burning building, the structure giving in on itself. The flames branching off to other buildings, destruction following his footsteps. 

Tony tries to reassure him as they walk, words falling on deaf ears as his mind toys with a troubling thought. 

_ What has he become? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters 😢I can't believe it... See you on Friday!!


	23. Vestiges of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over these past few months, almost a year of travel, the kid brought a sense of hope back in his life. Peter became that missing piece he never knew he needed to be whole again. The kid saved him from himself, gave him a newfound hope to keep fighting for. 
> 
> Although, after Stane, after the terror, their roles became reserved. He found a new beginning and Peter found more baggage to carry. But this time, Tony wasn’t going to let the inner demons take over. No, he was going to be there for the kid, like the boy was unknowingly for him. 
> 
> Peter saved him.
> 
> And Tony was going to save his son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore, guns, death, and alcohol

_Keep Finding Something To Fight For._

**_SPRING_ **

_ …  _

Escaping the horrors of winter was never easy, to begin with. No matter how many miles they put between that town and them, the memories still lingered. Its ungodly trauma echoing in the back of their minds; actions and phrases relived until they go numb. 

Tony is all too familiar with trauma and its powerful presence, the last twenty years slowly chipping away at his very being. It always starts in tiny fractures, emotional impact destroying any composure he had. It was there his mind slipped into unhealthy coping methods, desperate for lingering memories to fade away.

Walls were put up, heavy dependency on alcohol forming to fill the void trauma created. Relationships crumble, an invisible mask hiding the pain he carried every day. It didn’t matter what a person brought with them and what they left, trauma was always there looming over the world. 

It was the very thing Tony strived to protect Peter from, to shield his kid from the growing burden that would consume him if it had the chance. From day one, it was a lingering thought echoing in his mind. Even as unreluctant as he was back in Boston, he couldn’t deny the instincts to shield the small boy.  And yet, he still failed, leaving the kid to deal with the worst of humanity. Those people, that man, all horrid memories to last a lifetime. Trauma never leaves as one intends it to and Peter was figuring that out the hard way.

It took the kid days to even mutter the horrors that all started over a simple deer. A rare run in that showed the worst part of humans, how the new world evolved some into the worst parts of themselves. However, that factor wasn’t what troubled Tony so much, it was a lost spark of hope in Peter’s eyes. His childlike brown eyes grew dull, dark gaze fracturing his normal cheerful demise. 

Over these past few months, almost a year of travel, the kid brought a sense of hope back in his life. Peter became that missing piece he never knew he needed to be whole again. The kid saved him from himself, gave him a newfound hope to keep fighting for. 

Although, after Stane, after the terror, their roles became reserved. He found a new beginning and Peter found more baggage to carry. But this time, Tony wasn’t going to let the inner demons take over. No, he was going to be there for the kid, like the boy was unknowingly for him. 

Peter saved him.

And Tony was going to save his son. 

Traveling to Salt Lake City held nothing but challenges, emotional trauma aside. With the sudden passing of Karen, travel became much harder. On foot they couldn’t cover ground as fast, trekking through all that winter had to throw at them. When they could manage to hotwire a car, they could only make it a few miles maybe an hour if they were lucky before having to abandon their vehicle. 

Add the looming threat of frozen infected and more murderous groups, and their trek up north seemed to match all their other adventures. However, with threats, they still managed to survive the winter watching as the new season brought a sense of new beginnings. Even as spring came with the promise of warm days leading to summer, the vestiges of winter still remained.

The winter of 2033 was permanently marked on them forever, physical and emotional scars that wouldn’t leave any time soon. Tony had scars to tell stories for a lifetime but the long gash on his side would always haunt him. It was the catalyst that led them to Stane, the injury that left him on the sidelines as the kid fended for himself. 

And Peter? The kid was forever marked by a small white scar resting right above his lip, a physical representation of a dead man’s evil soul.

The emotional scars were vastly different for the both of them. Tony mostly dealt with the guilt of his injury, self-loathing wanting to eat him alive for leaving the kid for so long. Peter, however, first hand saw the horrors. The young boy faced with the decision of sparing or killing the very group that wanted him dead. Left remember the bloody carnage he created for survival. 

These images plagued the kid all the way through winter, silent nights filled with his chilling screams. The nightmares of death were always there, brain playing mean tricks on the boy as his mind tries to process the trauma. Tony never left his kid’s side, constant presence trying to lift the new burden placed on the boy’s shoulders. 

Trauma never was one to back down from a fight.

But it wasn’t just the nights that Tony noticed in the kid, it was the days they spent awake. Peter wasn’t the talkative kid he once was, quiet form hyper-aware of his surroundings. His eyes lost a spark, a dark gaze revealing the troubling thoughts echoing in his head. Thoughts of self-doubt and panic almost consuming him. 

It wasn’t as noticeable some days, but on days like today, the kid was somewhere else. Zoned out as the inner conflict consumes him. 

“Peter?” Tony tries once more trying to get the kid’s attention. 

A warmer breeze sail through the deep green trees; leaves hanging over the decaying remains of the stretch of highway they've been traveling down. In front of them laid what was left of Salt Lake City, abandoned cars extending for miles all lined up for the now-empty quarantine zone. 

Like its many predecessors before, the military only managed to control the zone for a short period of time. Avengers and riots leading to the downfall of yet another military structure they tried to set in place. The city was left to anyone once the soldiers rolled out, years going by for anyone to sweep in. By the looks of it, most of the city stayed a place for infected. The Avengers seemingly took up shop in center areas rather than taking over the whole place. 

Tony studies the tattered zone, glancing over to Peter still in a daze. He sighs, brows furrowing as his worry grows. 

“Peter?” He asks for the hundredth time. 

Muttering under his breath, he wonders what grabbed the kid’s attention. Moving to the side, he tilts his head, eyes landing on the carved deer within the concrete wall along the highway. 

_ Oh, that should do it. _

_ Of course, there was a deer here. _

“Kiddo?” He raises his voice just enough but not to startle him.

Peter’s head snaps up, body turning around snapping out of its daze. The kid glances around, freshly shorter curls revealing his troubled gaze. He checks his surroundings once more, playing with the red long sleeve under his faded Star Wars tee. 

“Uh…” The kid tries to play off his daze. “What?”

Tony’s eyes narrow, raising a brow not buying his games. Peter only sighs, urging him silently not to push on the subject any further.

“Are you just gonna shoot me a dad stare or?”

_ Dad, his heart warms at the name. _

_ That never gets old.  _

“Did you even hear me?”

The kid’s brows furrow. “No, I was looking at this picture of this…” He trails off watching the man give him another look. “Just stop staring and tell me what it was.”

“Kiddo remember what we-”

Peter snaps. “Yes _ I know _ , _Tony_. I’m fine, now what did you have to say?”

Knowing he wasn’t going to win this battle, he gives in gesturing to the small blue road sign. In bold letters it directed them to the next exit, their journey almost coming to a close. Just a few rounds of testing and they’ll be on their merry way back to Rhodey. Both of them having a chance to be a family outside of the zone and dangerous areas. A new beginning possible for the world. 

“The Hospital. We get off here.”

The kid turns in on himself. “Oh, good.”

“Yeah,” He doesn’t like the tone of that response. “Good…”

They press on, weaving through the numerous cars left to the wayside. Traveling down the last stretch of highway before heading into the entrance of the city, silence falls between them. Peter shoves his hands in his jean pockets, kicking at the stray rocks around him. Tony only watches helplessly trying to figure out to take him out of his head. A warm breeze sails through once more, both of them smiling at the lack of bite the winter breeze had. 

“Heh, you like that breeze huh?” He laughs as the kid takes in the sun and the breeze. “I tell you one a day like this, I’d just sit on my porch and maybe read a book or two.”

“Was it Whispers of Iron?” The kid smirks slyly, chuckling at his own joke. 

“Oi,” He playfully shoves the chuckling boy. “That was my wife, I was reading something else entirely.”

“Which was?”

“Ever heard of the Martian?”

Peter deadpans. “I haven’t even read Harry Potter.”

“Trust me, Pete, once this is all over we’re going to raid Rhodey’s book collection. He's very proud of the books he collected over the years.”

The kid gawks. “Your brother has a book collection and you didn’t tell me?!”

“You never asked?”

“We didn’t even go inside his settlement!”

“Not my fault that you-”

“Unbelievable,” The kid huffs off.

Tony snorts watching Peter shoot him non-menacing glares. “Alright puppy eyes, stop glaring at me.”

“Puppy eyes?! I’ll have you know I strike fear in grown-ass men!”

“Mhm hmm, sure.”

________

Working downward and off the highway, they stumble into the abandoned remains of the quarantine zone. Old checkpoints are still set up, fencing and barriers blocking certain pathways as they try to navigate around. Leftover cars soon began as stepping stools over blockades, rusted metal creaking as they walked over them. After getting through the thick of the fencing, upon the roof of a crashed RV, they were both able to see the hospital in the distance, an image of the end of their journey.

Tony glances over the kid, expecting some sort of excited grin but all he encountered was an unsure frown. Although Peter seemed to be in high spirits back on the highway, his son was still slipping back into his own thoughts. Whether it was old memories resurfacing or other concerning thoughts, the kid couldn’t quite shake his somber mood. The silence between them fell back into place, small conversations held but truly just a mask the kid was trying to put on. 

With the roads mostly blocked by cars and other debris, Tony leads the way into the remains of a movie theater. Crates and other empty totes lay about, the theater changed into place for zone needs. It almost seemed like a storage area, a large space used to house supplies for the zone. Movie posters still lined the wall, all the new films even Oscars contenders, displayed for the whole room to see. 

Peter wandered about the first floor, making note of the fallen stairs leading up to the second floor. He shrugs off the fact, glancing around the room with a heavy sigh before finding a seat on one of the benches. Tony tries to urge him once more, only to be brushed as the kid instead tries to scale the landing holding the ladder.

Taking a few moments to pull himself upward, Peter finally makes it to the second floor. Avoiding Tony’s gaze, the kid moves to drop the ladder down as his eyes trail elsewhere. He stops mid-motion, head tilting to the side as he gawks. 

“Oh my God,” His son lets the ladder fall to the ground with a loud clang, running off into the other room.

Tony, still on the ground, watches the kid disappear from his sight. There is a sense of panic that washes over him, mind instantly thinking that something infected or threatening is above him. 

“What is it?” He harshly whispers, getting no response from the kid. “Peter?!  _ Peter?! _ ”

Cursing under his breath, he sets the ladder up with haste before scrambling up to find his damn kid. Once he reaches the top, he peaks over to the side finding Peter still gawking at something outside the window. The kid sticks his head out of the shattered pane, a small grin tugging at his lips. He turns to face Tony, a small spark appearing in his eye.

“You gotta see this!” The kid takes off down the hall.

“Kiddo-” He barely gets out trying to keep up with his kid. Beside them as large shadow moves, the kid follows giddy and less somber. “What is it?”

With Peter leading the way, they travel through room after room, an animal's head just escaping his line of vision as the kid urges him to keep up. With one last comment, the kid makes a right into another room completely missing the wall facing the outside. However, it wasn’t just the view that the kid was marveling at, it was a  _ fucking giraffe.  _

The tall creature only lingers just a few feet away from them, long neck reaching inside to eat some of the leaves branching off inside. Peter marvels from a distance, latching onto Tony’s hand with a childlike wonder. Chuckling and amaze that animal in front of them, he leads the kid over.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s alright,” He reassures, making the first move to pet the giraffe first. 

The animal doesn’t mind, munching away on its leaves as the kid’s fingers ghost over its fur. Peter turns to Tony, that same spark still lingering in his eyes. 

“So fucking cool.” The animal then turns its neck away, body walking away as the kid follows it’s moments. “Aw, where’s it off to? Come on, let’s go!” He urges the man once more before taking off towards another room.

“Slow down, kiddo.”

_ “Come on!” _

Another quick jaunt through the place and they find themselves on the roof. Peter is the first out, running down the steps taking in the city view. An overgrown baseball field lays in front of them, six more giraffes joining their friend as they move through the city. Above the animals is the cityscape, mountains looming over to create a breathtaking sight. Tony lets the kid enjoy himself, leaning on the roof’s ledge himself as he takes in the view. Even though the city was decaying, there was still beauty here, life still thriving in odd ways.

“So…” He smiles just thankful that the kid's mood improved. “This everything you hoped for?”

Peter deflates just slightly, grin not as present. Nervously he plays with the sleeve of shirt again, worried eyes glancing over the horizon. 

“It had its ups and downs but the view is nice.”

Tony brows furrow, hand gently keeping the kid from running off again. “Kiddo, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

_ Lies, lies, and more lies. _

“Really? Because all day you've been more quiet than usual.”

Peter bites his lip looking guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.”

“But it shouldn’t be,” The kid huffs out, fist clenched tightly. “I can take care of myself. Everything is just-” He stops himself, knuckles turning white. He takes a shaky breath, eyes refusing to meet Tony. “ _ Complicated _ .”

He reaches to put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, brows furrowing as he tries to get inside the kid’s head. The kid’s last word had more weight than the others, conflicting thoughts branching into that one word. 

“Kiddo-” 

Peter gently knocks his hand off, distancing himself as he takes one last look at the city in front of them. The kid runs a shaky hand through his curls, a heavy sigh of frustration escaping his lips as he heads towards an exit. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Tony watches the kid’s hand latch onto the door handle, locked in the position as his head hang low. Watching his son’s reaction, he moves close finally getting the worries weighting off him today. “You know that right?”

The kid scoffs, guilty gaze meeting him. “What’s the other option then?”

“We go back to Rhodey’s,” He offers, watching his kid toy with the idea for a few seconds. 

Tony almost tries to urge him in the direction, not caring how long it would take them to get back. He couldn’t lie if his own worried thoughts kept him up in the early mornings of what exactly this ‘finding a cure process’ took or even how long. He had no idea what toll this could take on the kid’s body let alone if Nat and Steve would try to keep him here. 

_ They were selfish thoughts but he couldn’t stop them.  _

“We could just be done with this whole damn thing.”

Peter seemingly making up his mind shakes his head. “After all we’ve been through. After everything I’ve-” His voice cracks, jaw taunt as memories haunt him. “Everything I’ve done, it can't be for nothing.” 

“It wouldn’t be-”

“We can’t be selfish here, I can’t-” The kid finally opens the door, metal creaking as his weight shifts forward. “I can’t live with myself if I do.”

Peter heads into the stairwell without another word, footsteps echoing as a rather stunned Tony lingers above. He blinks a few times, mind trying to process what glimpse he got into the kid’s head. Winter was just affecting him, it was the looming presence of what was to come at the hospital. 

He calls down to the kid, trying to offer some comforting words. “Pete, listen to me-”

The teen stops, as few stairs separating them. “Look, I know you mean well, but there is no halfway with this. This can’t be for nothing.”

Tony closes the gap between them, gently resting his hands on his shoulders. “This wasn’t for nothing, Peter.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I gained a son.”

Peter’s eyes almost go glassy, his worried frown forming into a wet smile. “And I gained a Dad.”

_ His son, his pride and joy. _

_ Maybe the universe wasn’t so bad. _

“But I have to see this though,” His son adds. “And once we’re done, we’ll go wherever you wanna go.”

“Well, I’m not leaving without you.”

_ Never again will he toy with that horrible idea.  _

“Now let’s go wrap this up.” 

Now starting up on a lighter note, they easily weaved their way through checkpoints set up throughout the city. Fencing created structure back then, a way to make single filed lines to contain the masses of people trying to flee from the infected. These fences led them back outside, numerous tents taking over the rather large parking lot. 

Abandoned tanks scatter across the pavement; plantlife overgrown and engulfing the metal. Ruined supplies and crates litter about, once holding an abundant amount of resources that people would die for. 

“Well, this place takes me back.”

Tony glances around the remains of the triage, vivid memories coming to light. He can see the panic and masses of people: death and destruction happening on the outside of these walls. Everything was a mess back then, power and phone lines cut as everyone desperately tried to figure out what chaos was taking the world by storm. 

“How so?” The kid ponders, taking a look in one of the ripped white tents searching for supplies. “We’ve seen places like this.”

“On a smaller scale,” He states, still looking about. “This place was much more like triage I ended up in after everything went down.”

He only stares at the rows of tents longer, vividly recalling Rhodey dragging his broken form to a bed. They were both still covered in Pepper’s blood, dirt caking their hands from burying her body unable to bring her anywhere else. Both of them still had tears in their eyes, listening to screams and sirens miles away as the world fell into chaos. 

“Everywhere you looked,” He swallows a lump in his throat. “You just saw families torn apart.”

Due to the massive amount of people fleeing the city, every tent was loaded with people with some even sharing cots. Fights broke out from within, emotions running high as the military tried to control the situation from within. He and Rhodey were forced to share a cot, his tired eyes forced to stare at the mother holding her young child. Tony members the anger pumping through him, the vile thoughts he held against a woman he never knew.

_ He hated two strangers because they lived and Pepper didn’t.  _

The only good thing he could find on this day was the moment Maria walked through the tent. Her stern gaze settled upon them, face caked in blood like most of the people here. She held her head up high, bloodshot eyes only giving away some tragic story. She was the person that snapped him out of his grief-filled daze, the person who stayed with him after all these years.

_ And he misses her terribly.  _

“The whole damn world,” He sighs bittersweetly remembering his old friend. “Seemed to turn upside down in a blink.”

“Is that when…” Peter adds from behind trying to approach the subject gently. “Pepper-”

“It was.”

“Was it peaceful?”

_ She choked on her own blood crying out in pain. _

“It was quick.”

“I’m so sorry,” The kid tries to recover thinking he overstepped. “I can’t imagine witnessing something like that.” 

“It’s okay, Pete,” He whispers, not trusting his voice just yet.

_ She would have loved you, so damn much. _

Not wanting to linger in this place anymore, the press on. 

________

Working through the blockades of crashed vehicles and fallen fencing, they managed to find their way back onto the city street. Buildings and signs show twenty years of decay, the plant life mostly the only thing thriving in this place. Hospital signs hung over the streets, white symbols leading down towards a tunnel. Before them a mass of more cars blocked their way, a tight squeeze just allowing them to get by. 

“It’s going to be different this time,” Peter says climbing over a tipped truck. “I just know it.”

Tony raises a brow following his lead. “What do you mean?”

“They’re going to be there, the Avengers. I’m sure of it.”

“If they're not, I’m going to track down Natasha and Steve and kick their asses myself.”

“I’m pretty sure Nat was a secret agent,” The kid warns. “And Steve has a bunch of old military buddies that would back him up.”

“Eh, I think I could take them.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so old.”

“Just because I’m middle-age does  _ not _ mean I’m old!”

“If you say so.”

_ This damn kid. _

Once scaling over the tracker trailer blocking their way, they stumble into a widened roadway. Above them, the ceiling caves in as medians dividing the lanes were completely destroyed by crashed vehicles. Plantlife peaks through the holes throughout, foliage taking over the concrete below. 

Together, they make it barely three steps in when they hear the familiar snarl of a runner. They both freeze, gazing around to see a small cluster of runners and clickers hobbling about. Tony takes in the space around them, trying to figure out how to use this to their advantage. Though in a cluster, the infected were too far apart for his liking, trying to see how he could attract them to one spot. 

Peter, understanding his concerned gaze picks up a piece of concrete. “I draw their attention, you burn them to crisps?”

A smirk tugs at his lips, a few ideas running through his head. “Wanna see the flamethrower in action?”

“Is that even a question?!”

Quietly, Tony pulls out two Moltovs for the both of them gesturing for the kid to chuck a few rocks to grab the infected attention. The rocks bang off of cars, sound echoing throughout as they watch the cluster form together. The runners just see them start to sprint forward, bodies coming to a halt when flames erupt around them. About five infected total succumb to the flames, the other clicker and runner charging at the two of them. 

Quick on his feet, he lets the flame thrower consume them letting their screeches and snarls draw out the hidden freaks. More sprint their way as Peter fires off a few shots, taking out a few freaks as Tony takes the rest out with fire. 

Once there was a break in freaks, they surged forward with their weapons drawn working towards the exit. They stay quiet, using gestures to help guide themselves as the tunnel sank further down. More snarls echoed up ahead, a lot more voices than the cluster they encounted before. It was only when they came upon knee-deep water that they discovered a horde of infected. 

Tony shoved the kid behind a vehicle, both of them sharing panic stares. Guttural growls echo, a clear indication of some bloaters in the mix of freaks.

“Holy shit,” Peter whispers. “There’s so many.”

“I know,” He nods, trying to count off freaks. “Let’s just keep at it.

“I swear if this water gets any deeper.”

“One challenge at a time.”

Sticking to the walls, they managed to dodge a few clickers as they waded through the waters. Quieter weapons drawn, they slip inside a side room with many hallways leading out. Pipes and electrically boxes line the walls, probably some sight for pumping or power for the city. Nevertheless, they make a break for it through the falls taking out any infected in their way. 

Runners are the only freaks that linger about, hobbling forms leading past the large cluster freaks. The last freak leads them back to the roadway, body slumping to the floor as the kid takes care of it. In front of them lays a manageable cluster of freaks, mostly clickers and one bloater stuck to the ground. 

Together, they follow the same tactic from before, lulling as many freaks before letting the flames engulf them. The clickers go down pretty easily with the flames, leaving the bloater surviving the fire due to its thick skin. The freak throws a spore ball that them, both scrambling as Peter chucks a nail bomb its way. Watching it succumb to some of its injuries, Tony unleashes the flame thrower, burning the damn freak into a mound of charred spores. Finally, its body slumps to the ground leaving the rest of their path open. 

They sprint downward until another tracker trailer blocks them. Quickly, Tony boosts the kid upward, watching him pull himself on top before dropping a crate down to act as a stepping tool. He joins the kid on top, breathing heavily as he scans the other side of the truck. 

“I think we’re good,” He heaves. “They can’t scale this.”

“Good?” The kid scoffs gesturing to the mass of water in front of them. “The water got  _ deeper _ .”

“Not if you stick to the sides.”

Peter’s brows furrow, arms crossed against his chest. “If you make me get on another fucking pallet I may just drown myself.”

“Dramatic much?”

“Says the man that made a detour so he could have his goatee again.”

“It was a ten-minute detour-”

Peter hops off the truck before he can finish his sentence. 

_ Dramatic ass. _

Joining the kid, he takes the front leading the way through the waters. Cars and walkways acted as pathways in the deeper parts, some places were barely ankle-deep. Peter unhappy with swimming in general eyes the waters with disgust muttering under his breath. 

“Why do all the cities have mini ponds and rivers? There is no need for water to be here.”

“Twenty years of decay and rain.”

“Yeah well, they can fuck off.”

Tony smirks, glancing back at the unhappy teen. “I hope you know I’m teaching you how to swim after this.”

The color drains from Peter’s face. “Oh, God.”

“Don’t give me that look, it’s not hard.”

“If you let me drown, I will haunt your ass.”

“Nice to know you have faith in me, Pete. Makes the heart feel real good.”

Peter deadpans “Swimming is  _ dangerous _ , Tony _.” _

He only laughs, leading the pouting teen through the shallow waters. They mostly stick to sides for the kid’s sake, trekking through cold waters trying to figure out how to get to the damn hospital.

As luck would have it, they did manage to find a maintenance tunnel for the hospital’s ventilation system. But their luck was only short-lived by the locked gate blocking them from entering. Peter, just happy to get away from the water, scaled the chained wall like a damn spider monkey. On the other side, the kid took a bow completely missing the stalker crawling from its hiding space.

The freak with as much force it could muster shoved the kid to the ground. Peter only managed to grab the stalker's head, latching onto the mass of spores trying to keep its chipped teeth from befitting into him. Tony panicking like any father would instantly whipped his gun out trying to line up a shot as he watched the struggle unfold. 

“Peter-”

“Give me a second, this asshole is a lot stronger than you think!” The kid yells back trying to kid the freak away from him.

The stalker snarls, body contorting to odd angles over the teen. The freak began drooling, thin form desperate for a meal it hasn’t had in a while. Peter grunts, boot shoving the infected to the side as he scrambles away. Tony wasting no time fires through the chained fence, shots echoing as he riddles the freak with bullets. Letting out one more painful rasp, its limbs give out as its body slumps into the growing puddle of blood. 

“You okay,” He heaves out gun still drawn, almost expecting another freak to jump out.

“Yeah, it just surprised me,” Peter huffs, calming his breathing. He finally stands after a few moments, stepping around the blood to open the door. He unlatches the metal bar in the lock, wiping the freaks drool off his face. “Man, I can’t wait for these things to be wiped out.”

“No one is disagreeing with you there,” He mutters, pulling his son for a quick hug refusing to let go. Resting his chin on the kid’s head he sighs, letting the panic slip away. “Next time let’s check out the area before scaling over like a spider-monkey.”

“Noted,” The kid mutters into his chest.

They press on. 

________

“You got to be shitting me.”

Peter’s unamused glare stares out across the pool water in the ventilation area, taking in the rather deep waters consuming which was once a dry room. Above them, the hospital loomed its image only seen through the fallen roof covered in plant life. Below, an old turbine sits submerged, other rooms underwater as their only way across became a ladder unreachable. 

Tony was shoulder deep in the water, breaking the news that he couldn’t quite make to the other side holding said ladder. The pathway across was long destroyed, crumbling pieces floating in the clear water. The kid only stared at him some more looking at the water with say disdain as before. 

“Pete, we’ve done this-”

“Nope sorry, drowning myself. The world can find another cure.”

This time he stares, cold fingers gripping onto the wooden pallet he had to dive for. He pushes the wood towards his kid, trying not to roll his eyes. 

“You try that and I’ll put you on the pallet anyway.”

“This is abuse, father,” Peter deadpans. 

“Too bad, child,” He scoffs with an eye roll. “I guess we're going back through the freaks then.”

The kid shuts his mouth before saying another comment, eyes drifting back the way they came with a knowing look. Peter purses his lips before groaning into his hands, begrudgingly grabbing Tony’s bag. 

“My statement still stands: I drown, I haunt your ass.”

“This will literally take ten seconds.”

“The longest ten seconds of my life.”

Once Peter found his place on the pallet, Tony pushed him over to the other landing listening to his disdain grow. He chuckles at the dramatics fully knowing this was the same kid that jumped into a raging river back in Pittsburgh. Ten seconds later, his kid is on the right landing trekking across the rusty metal to unlatch the ladder needed. 

Surfacing from the water, he rings out the double layers of his Black Sabbath t-shirt over the top of a grey long sleeve as his boot squeaks across the title. Tony, about three steps up the old ladder hears the metal creek and shifts. It shakes, step giving out from under him as the metal holding the top portion crumbles. 

“Oh-” Metal peices nearly hit him in the head as the scatter below. “Shit.”

Peter’s tone changes as he peaks down with wide eyes. “Wha...what just happened?”

“Damn ladder broke off the wall.”

“You okay?!”

“Yeah, just gimme a sec,” He huffs as he gets back in the water, ladder in tow. He swims over to the landing broken in half, testing to see if the metal death trap was long enough. “Just making a bridge.”

Trekking over the damn thing without any more issues, he jaunts up a few sets of stairs joining the kid. They follow the signs upward, turning corners as the sound of rushing water fills their ears. Peter stills at the sound, taking his time to walk across the metal floor towards the sound. 

They stumble upon another broken wall, crumbling pieces leading into the tunnel. They move closer, curses flying out of the kid's mouth at the sight below them. The tunnel was now a river, a river of deep gushing waves that would take expert swimmers out. 

_ Every city gotta have something. _

“Shall I go fetch the pallet,” Peter tries to joke through his internal screaming. 

“Just let me go ahead,” He tries to reasure his kid, taking a look at the tops of vehicles that didn’t look as stable as he liked. “And you follow my lead.”

“Just going add-”

“You’ll haunt my ass, I know.”

“I was going to say be careful but if you wanna be Mr. Snappy Pants then by all means.”

He walks onto the first car trying to stop an eye roll. 

Walking on top of the raging waters, mist hits them from all over. The cars wobble as they walk, metal slippery as they try to keep their balance. Vents and cars make a path through, each step more dangerous than the last. If they shifted their weight too much, they could tip the vehicle over sending them into raging depths. 

Leading the way, Tony takes the kid towards the vents above the waters. He jumps the small gap, feet just landing on the metal as he steadied himself. Peter only watches him with wide eyes, staring at the gap and water. 

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m going to catch you kiddo,” He says holding a hand out. 

“Promise,” The kid looks deadly serious, joking tone fading away as the panic creeps in. 

“I promise.”

_ I will always catch you. _

Peter takes a moment, inching a few steps back to give himself a running start. He leaps straight into Tony, arms latching onto him for dear life. He lets out a breathy laugh, still squeezing the hell out of his arms.

“See?” He whispers trying to calm the panic. “You got this.”

“Let’s get the hell off this thing.”

Now on study ground, Peter leads the way trailing over the waters until the end of the vents. Below him lies a turned over bus, large form stuck between the walls of the tunnel. The bus does move, its broken frame only allowing the surging waters to go through. The kid hopes onto the vehicle easily, sturdy rig not even wobbling.

Tony hopes down to follow the kid to the next landing that leads away from the surging waters. But the moment his feet hit the bus, the whole vehicle wobbles to the side. Metal creaks, the sturdy broken rig giving into the force of the waters. The bus starts to move, sinking from their weight.

He makes eye contact with his kid, gesturing to the landing in front. “Peter,  _ move _ ! Move right now!”

Peter scrambles onto the landing as he follows, hands just ghosting the dirty floor as the bus gives out from under him. The waters push the vehicle forward, the floor he was hanging onto crumbling into pieces freeing the bus. 

_“Dad!”_ His kid scrambles to follow the moving bus across the landing, hand stretching as far as he could. “Here grab my hand-!”

The door he’s been standing on unhinges, his body crashing into the inside bus. His arm latches onto the open compartment, trying to steady himself as the vehicle fills with water. Peter yells his name from above, water swelling inside as the force pushes him towards the back of the bus. 

Tony’s back hits the end of the bus, surging water pinning him to the wall. He tries to fight against it, the sheer force of the endless liquid only keeping him in place. The bus starts to sink, the water level rising close to his shoulders. Panic begins to set in, as he glances around the vehicle desperately trying to come up with a plan to get out.

_ This was not how he wanted to go. _

_ He just got a second chance at life. _

Mid freakout, a figure slams on top of the sealed end door. The glass cracks, the door just opening as his wide eyes find the kid trying to pry open the door.

_ How the fuck- _

“Oh God, I fucking made that,” Peter exclaims, eyes wild with panic. He tugs at the door, urging him to help. “Come on old man!”

“Kid-”

He watches his son start stomping on the door, curing at the damn thing as they struggle to open in. Water swells up to his shoulders, no intent in stopping until it consumes the bus. 

“Come on you piece of -- _ OH SHIT!”  _ His kid kicks the door right into his face, knocking him underwater. He takes in water, surfacing in surprise gagging at the salty taste. “Dad, Oh my God-”

The bus chucks forward, the open door falling to the side as the kid latches on for dear life. They both look at the drop below them, metal creaking towards the drop every few seconds. The door slams on them, Tony now panicking as he tries to get the kid inside.

_ “Peter!” _ He yells, breaking the glass with his hand desperately trying to reach his son. “Gimme your hand! Gimme your hand before--! 

The bus goes into free fall, both of their bodies tumbling into the depth below. 

Tony’s body hits the rotted seat roughly, the air in his lungs almost escaping him. His eyes fly open, water stinging his eyes as panic grips his lungs. Peter is nowhere in sight, his body was nowhere near the bus. Crawling his way out, he swims through the depths of the tunnel weaving past the concrete and vehicles in his way. His lungs burn as he swims forwards, panicked strokes desperately trying to find the kid. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

_ Please, God no. _

In the murky waters, light shines through illuminating a floating figure up ahead. Tony nearly yells, using all of his strength to swim towards the figure. It only takes him moments to recognize the mop of curls floating, hands latching onto the boy. He pulls his son through the maze of rocks, eyes just catching an opening inches away. He kicks forward, surfacing as his lungs nearly give out on him. 

Gasping for air, he gags and coughs up the water he swallowed. Bile sting his throat, sore arms pulling the kid above the water as he swims towards the shore. He scrambles up the rocky terrain, panic raps lunging the kid as far away from the mess. Heaving in air, his eyes fall onto Peter’s unconscious form. His gaze lingered to his lips and noticed the pale blue hue forming. A panicked breath escapes him, ear hovering right above his mouth unable to hear his kid breathing. 

_ No, No, NO. _

Instantly he begins CPR, hands pressing into Peter’s chest firmly. “C’Mon,” He begs his kid to stir, to cough up the water in his lungs. “Kiddo, I swear to God.”

He continues as his eyes fill with tears, the thought of death filling him with dread. Peter’s body doesn’t respond to the CPR, his limp form flopping around. He begs with the universe, whatever higher power he could think of to save his son. 

_ He is not losing another person, he can’t- _

“Hands in the air!” 

Tony’s gaze shoots upward, hands still performing CPR as he stares at two men pointing their guns at him. 

“I said,” The man with the much longer hair than his partner points his gun directly at Tony cocking it. “Put your hands in the air!”

His other buddy moves closer, Avengers logo on full display as they take in what’s happening in front of them.

_ They fucking found them. _

_ And Peter wasn’t breathing. _

“He’s not breathing,” He begs, still trying to get the kid to breathe. “Please, he’s not-”

The other man speaks. “Hands in the fucking air!”

A wet gasp escapes Tony as he watches his kid slip through his fingers. “C’Mon, Peter, wake-”

The back of the gun hits his temple, body hitting the ground as his vision went black. 

Then he felt nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is finally upon us, one final chapter left 😢Thank you guys so much for the support! I'll see you next Wednesday for the final chapter <3


	24. A Small Price to Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony’s body awakens with a jolt, a strange sense of deja vu washing over him. He blinks a few times, head spinning as he tries to regain his bearings. His muscles protest as he moves, mind trying to figure out where-
> 
> _Peter._
> 
> The memories hit him like a wave. 
> 
> He bolts upward, body almost tumbling to the floor before a strong arm stops him. Tony freezes, gaze shifting upward to meet the stern eyes of Steve Rogers. He pushes the man off of him, staring at him with wide eyes. 
> 
> _What the-_
> 
> “Welcome to the Avengers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter, I can't believe it 😭😭
> 
> Warnings: mentions of blood/gore, MAJOR character death, guns, and drugs

Tony’s body awakens with a jolt, a strange sense of deja vu washing over him. He blinks a few times, head spinning as he tries to regain his bearings. His muscles protest as he moves, mind trying to figure out where-

_ Peter. _

The memories hit him like a wave. 

He bolts upward, body almost tumbling to the floor before a strong arm stops him. Tony freezes, gaze shifting upward to meet the stern eyes of Steve Rogers. He pushes the man off of him, staring at him with wide eyes. 

_ What the- _

“Welcome to the Avengers,” A familiar female voice said.

He turns to his right, taking in the rather relaxed form of Natasha Romanoff. Her legs are crossed under her, red fiery hair pulled into two braids as her narrowed gaze takes a look at him. She smirks, a grateful smile almost forming. 

“Been on quite the adventure huh?”

“Peter-” He rasps out, heavy breaths trying to prepare him for the worst. “Is he-”

Steve chimes in this time. “The kid is fine, just... _resting._ ”

_ Thank God. _

A huge exhale escapes him, body laying back on the lumpy hospital bed. He chuckles, rubbing his tired eyes and thanking the heavens for the billionth time. 

“Sorry about the…” Nat points to his temple, gesturing to a bruise throbbing there. “Sargent Wilson and Barnes didn’t know who you were.”

“Can’t be too careful these days,” The Captain muttered. 

She ignores his comment, studying his tired form. “You came all this way,” She starts almost bewildered by the fact he’s here. “How the hell did you do it?”

“It was him, Peter fought like hell to get here,” He says, pushing himself into a sitting potion. He groans at his sore body, cursing at bruises he knows that formed when he fell into the bus. “Maybe it was just meant to be.”

_ Maybe it was meant for him to meet his kid. _

“We lost most of our crew crossing the country,” Steve speaks up, dark gaze remembering horrid memories. “Pretty much lost everything and then you show up. And somehow we find you just in time to see him. So yeah,” The man chuckles, grateful. “It was meant to be.”

“Alright well,” He sighs, getting up from the bed, rolling his shoulders. “Love to catch up but I would like to see Peter.”

“You don’t,” Natasha stands up from her seat, placing a hand on his chest. “Have to worry about him anymore.”

_ He doesn’t have to what now? _

_ That’s real funny, he’s been worrying since day one. _

“We’ll take care-”

“I worry,” He stops her, staring at the both of them with an uneasy feeling. He wasn’t dropping Peter off with this group, he was taking him home. “Just let me see him.”

Both Avengers share a look, guilty gazes urging the other to speak. Natasha ends up explaining, smiling as she tries to soften the blow.

“You can’t, he’s being prepared for surgery.”

“Surgery?” He questions eyes bugging out. “What the hell do you mean?”

“The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside him has somehow mutated. It's why Peter’s even immune.”

Tony stares, wondering how long he was truly out. 

_ Surgery. _

_ They were sending his kid into surgery and didn’t mention that at all. _

Natasha smiles, a sense of relief washing over her. “Once we remove it, they’ll be able to reverse engineer a vaccine. A  _ vaccine.” _

_ Remove- _

_ Oh, God… _

“The infection grows all over the brain,” He says as the pieces clicked together. 

She doesn’t meet his gaze, nodding. “It does.”

Silence fills the room, lingering tension building up. Tony stares at the two leaders, shaking his head realizing what he brought his kid to. He dragged Peter, _his son_ across the country just to end up with doctors poking around in his brain. 

_ They were going to kill him. _

_ And he brought him to them. _

Anger and worry built, his eyes narrowing. “Find someone else.”

“There is no one else.”

“Listen here,” He warns fury blooming in his eyes. “You are gonna show me-”

Steve knocks his legs out from under him, gun drawn giving him a silent warning. Tony curses still on the ground, anger still pouring off him. 

“Steve, stop. This isn’t fun for anyone.” Natasha kneels down to his level, pained eyes pleading with him. “I get it, he’s a great kid. But whatever it is you think you're through right now, it's nothing to what we have been through.”

_ You don’t know shit. _

“We’ve known him since he was born. We promised his mother that we would look after him.”

“Then why?” He stands up trying to appeal to both of them. “Why are you letting this happen?”

Steve comes to Natasha's aid, guilt-ridden as well. “Because this isn’t about us or him, there is no other choice here.”

“It’s a small price to pay to save what’s left of humanity.”

_ Small price- _

_ Peter was not some thing you threw to the wayside. _

_ He was a person, a human fucking being with no idea what the Avengers had planned for him.  _

_ His son didn’t deserve this. _

“Keep telling yourself that bullshit,” He sneers. “You're just killing a fifteen-year-old boy.”

Natasha’s friendly expression changes, eyes narrowing into a menacing glare. She sighs, walking over to the foot of the hospital bed and chucking a bag at Tony. He catches it, stumbling back before he gazes down onto the familiar Star Wars pins littered throughout. 

“I saved his bag for you, he doesn’t need it anymore.”

“Because you didn’t give him a choice.”

“Some things are best left unspoken,” She sighs, gesturing to Steve with a fury in her own eyes “I trust you’ll get him out of here? If he tries anything, shoot him.”

“You lured a kid here with lies.”

She ignores him, trying to compose herself. “I suggest you don’t waste this gift, Stark. The last thing I want is to clean up a body.”

Natasha sends him one last look before leaving the room, her boots echo down the hallway disappearing seconds later. Steve and him share a few nasty glares, leading the man to cock his gun before gesturing to him to leave the room.

“How can you go through this?” He sneers back at the man, anger pumping through him. “Last I heard the Captain was the protector of the people.”

“Some sacrifices are needed to win the war.”

Walking at gunpoint, Tony takes his grand old time trying his best to piss off America’s so-called soldier. Peter’s bag rests in his hands, the guilt and worry creeping up. His mind lingers back to the kid and his second thoughts about the whole thing. He screams at himself for not pushing the kid to turn back, to just take his kid home. Now he was being forced out without him, forced to just stand by and let him die. 

They walk a few more inches, his sad eyes stumbling upon his bag laying on a reception desk. Every weapon but his flamethrower still attached. A reckless plan forming in his mind, a stupid decision that could get him killed. 

_ But for Peter, he’ll do anything. _

Tony stops waiting for Steve to react, his heart starts thumping in his chest as the adrenaline pumps through him. The Captain sighs, muttering something under his breath trying to urge him to move.

“Really Stark, what the fuck are you doing? Just keep moving, it’s not worth it.”

He doesn’t move, letting the annoyance rise in Steve. The man walks closer, placing the gun on his back. 

“I’m not playing any games, keep-”

Tony elbows the gun upward as it fires, body whipping around and latching onto the gun. He slams Steve into the wall, anger taking over. He pistol-whips the man a few times, breaking his nose before turning the gun on him. Placing the gun against his stomach, he takes his free arm shoving the Captain's body roughly against the wall.

“Where is the operating room,” He sneers, pressing the gun further into his gut. 

Steve only glares at him, blood gushing down his face from his nose. 

“I don’t have time for this,” He fires a shot into Steve's stomach, eyes watching the man rasping out in pain. He presses against the wound, letting the man squirm. 

Adrenaline pumps through him, an untamable fury bursting from the seems. He lets the pressure linger on the wound, pressing further into when the bullet toward through the skin. Blood cakes his hands as the fury mixes with panic, the overwhelm emotions of a father coming to the forefront. 

“Where?” He fires another shot as the Captain struggles to breathe, rasping out heavy breaths. “ _ Where?!” _

“T-Top floor…” Steve gasps, pained breathing following as blood fills his mouth. “The...F-Far end.”

“Now,” Tony sneers once more, letting the man fall to his knees. “Was it that hard?”

The man through glaze eyes tries to stop the bleeding as the blood rushes out. Blood stains the wall, pooling on the floors as he struggles to contain it. A crimson hue covers the area as it pours out of the man, the pitful scene playing out in front of him. The brave Captain only glances up through red-rimmed eyes, almost excepting his faith. Tony cocks the gun once more, resting it on Steve’s forehead.

“And this for trying to kill my son.”

A shot echoes through the halls, Steve's lifeless body slumping to the floor.  His eyes remain open, a glassy expression of panic still edged on his face. He pulls away from the carnage, putting on his own bag before grabbing Peter’s from the ground. Guilt is the first thing to calm his rage, a pang of emotions eating at him as he stares at the lifeless body. He didn't want to kill Steve, but they left him no choice. They wanted to kill Peter and that was a death sentence in itself.

_ This was one big fucking mess. _

“Gunshots! Search the floor!”

Tony’s head whips towards the direction the voice echoes from, cursing as he scrambles to find cover. Footsteps come closer, the whole building about to be on high alert once they stumble upon the scene of their dead Captain. The Avengers were enemies number one now, each person seconds away from turning this place into a deadly manhunt. 

_ And he didn't mind one bit. _

_ He’s getting Peter out of this hellhole. _

_No matter what._

________

Turns out killing one of the beloved leaders of Avengers doesn’t go over well. Especially once he heard the anger coming from the familiar voices of Barnes and Wilson. Tension grew on the floor, both men with heavy emotions demanding to find him.

“I want that smuggler dead!” Barnes yells.

Wilson chimes in, voice just as intense. “Find the asshole who did this!”

Tony takes off down the hall shortly after that, weaving through rooms trying not to be detected. More armed Avengers come surging into the halls, their walkie talkies booming with life as they searched. It’s only a matter of time before the first set of guards notice him, their voices booming as he scrambles for cover.

Gunfire echoes through the halls, pounding against the wall as it crumbles from the sheer force. Placing Peter’s bag down, he quickly latches onto his shotgun and loads it. Heart racing, he waits until there is an opening to return fire back at the men. Bullet shells fly out of his gun as quickly as he loads them, bullets hitting each Avenger until he’s sure they're dead. He sees red, each man slumping to the floor creating a rather large pool of blood.

Tony wastes no time to move forward, jumping through broken windows going around the Avenger filled hall. Most of the rooms are filled with hospital beds; old IVs still standing and collecting dust. He doesn’t bother to linger in those, open spaces giving him no real cover and too much of a chance to be cornered.

Coming upon an office space with three exits, he hunkers down behind the large desk. He then rips open the kid’s bag, taking any spare ammo he could find. Sorting through the contents inside and grabbing the nail bombs from inside, his fingers ghosted over a smaller container. He stops, eyes narrowing as he pulls the object out recognizing it immediately. 

_ The sticky bomb, the kid still had it.  _

His moment of glee is cut short however when flashlights of other guards catch his attention. Quietly he pockets the item for later, cleaning up his mess as he readies himself for another attack. This time he picks a gun with more ammo, switching to the revolver with the scope he picked up back at Rhodey’s. His fingers twitch as he cocks the gun, eyes focusing on the number of figures fanning out across the floor. Five surround the room he’s in, three groups breaking off as they try to flank all the sides. Two men search the room to left and right, one singular guard creeping inside the office to check the space out.

Tony peers from his hiding spot, gun aimed at the man taking a look behind the open door. Lining up the shot through the scope he fires, the man slumping to the ground as his other friends perk up. Both groups reload their guns, searching the spaces around them before closing in on the office. Trying not to become cornered, he makes use of a nail bomb chucking it to his left before firing on the men to his right. Shots and explosions echo through the floor, bodies all dropping amid the chaos. 

Silence lingers, adrenaline pumping through him as he loots an assault rifle of one of the men. He grabs the extra ammo, loading the weapon before getting the hell out of the office. Sprinting down the halls, he jumps through a few more rooms passing an assortment of spore filled X-Rays. He forces himself to keep moving, to not try to dwell on the brain scan that belonged to Peter. 

_ He needed to keep moving before they killed his son. _

Running through the halls once more, he stumbles into West Wing staring at the angry faces of Wilson and Barnes. They fire at him with a fury, bullets just missing him as he scrambles behind a desk. He ducks under the reception desk, bullets destroying the basic structure of his cover. Panicking as they quickly reload, he tosses the sticky bomb at the men praying it does something. The metal object clangs across the floor, the gunfire coming to a sudden halt. 

“What the fuck?!” Wilson curses.

Tony peaks out from the desk, eyes going wide at the sight in front of him. A proud and grateful grin tugging at his lips. The men in front of him stand stuck to the floor, web-like fluid keeping their guns and arms tightly against their chest. They both curse as they try to free themselves, the sticky substance turning them into breathing statues. 

_ Peter, his little genius. _

“Stark, what the fuck is this stuff?!” Barnes demands as more flashlights shine down the hall, footsteps booming in the corridor.

Tony ignores their comments, slowly backing up as he pulls out another nail bomb. He stares at the end of the hall, eyes fully trained on the two men coming into view. He chucks the bomb right in the center of both groups, sprinting off before it could explode. Pained screams echoed through the halls, suddenly stopping as he runs farther away. 

Rounding the corner into the quarantine section of the hospital, he fires at a few unsuspecting Avengers, letting his rifle do all the dirty work. He moves into the stairwell after their bodies drop to the floor, dragging a metal chair to bar the door. Once the chair is in place, he sprints up the stairs praying that he isn't too late.

Slamming the top floor’s down open, he enters another empty hall, eyes scanning for any more threats. Eerily, he travels through the silent floor on edge as he expects another attack. This floor matches the one he just on, Quaterine tarps masking the windows as spotlights line the halls. He rounds another corner before his eye catches shadows from the other hall. Tony stops at the window, watching figures run across in the hall just a few feet away from him.

A voice echoes “They’re not responding, take up positions. No matter what, he doesn’t get through here.”

_ That’s where they’re keeping him. _

_ Hold on Peter, I’m coming. _

Stealthy, he moves towards the next wave of Avengers. Taking cover behind a wall, he listens to men bark off orders, their guns at the ready. Tony calms his breathing, nail bomb in hand as he waits for the men to get closer together. Four Avengers make that move seconds later, eyes going wide once a strange tin lands in front of them. An explosion occurs, bodies thrown to the floor as they are covered in shrapnel. With one last pained rasp, they stop breathing and he surges forward.

Making use of the last of his smoke bombs, he fills the halls with a white cloud. Tony’s ax sits in his hand this time, blade taking out Avengers before they could see him. Blood and smoke covered the halls, guards on high alert as they tried chasing him around the floor. When the smoke did let up, the gunfire started once more followed by the last two nail bombs. Bodies hit the floor as he surged forward, mind focused on getting to the damn operation room. 

Tony takes out the last man with his ax, both men fighting hand to hand before he could swing his weapon. With the last body hitting the ground, he pushes his way into the pediatric floor breathing heavily as more voices echoed. 

_ There were so many of them. _

Trying to buy himself more time, he lunges over a cart of old medical machines before slamming it against the doorframe. He heaves as he presses the heavy objects against the door, urging himself not to linger for too long. At the end of the hall this time, light illuminated from the inside as shadows danced across. His eyes go wide as he sprints the whole way down slamming the door open to find an OR in use. Shadows of doctors hover over a table, an image of a smaller form laying unmoving.

_ Jesus, that’s Peter.  _

He slams open the door; fury and panic resurfacing. 

All three doctors disperse from the table, masks hiding most of their faces. They’re all prepped for surgery, tools and machines set up. Peter lays on the table unconscious, dawning a blue hospital gown. An oxygen mask rests over his mouth and nose, his kid breathing steadily. Tony points his guns at the unarmed doctors, silence glare warning not to move. 

The only male doctor speaks, sottish accent still quite think. “What are you doing here?” He stares at the gun pointing at them, eyes narrowing once he realizes what’s happening. “I won’t let you take him.”

“And I’m not letting you kill my son,” He sneers as the women try to diffuse the situation.

“Fitz,” A woman with a British accent pleads with them. “The man has a gun, let’s just-”

“Jemma stay back,” The doctor warns, eyes still on Tony. “Stay with Aida, I got this.”

“Backs to the wall,  _ now. _ ” 

Fitz doesn’t budge, only picking up a scalpel and hovering it above Peter’s neck, the man's wild eyes warning him. “Drop the gun now, I won’t hesitate to use this on the kid.”

_ Don’t you fucking dare. _

Tony drops the rifle, feet slowly moving towards the man and his kid. Deep down he knows he needs the kid alive, he can’t kill him first; not without the taking out the spores. But he was going to play the doctor's little game for now. The last thing he needs is an unstable man actually going through with his threats.

“This kid is our future, think of all the lives we’ll save,” The doctor shifts the blade away from the kid's neck now pointing it towards Tony. “You're not his father, you're nothing but a smuggler.”

Fury blooms within him, words seeping into him. He glances at the other women than to the man, whole body starting to shake. Fitz only tries to swing the blade at him, coming short as Tony latches onto his gloved hands. The only huffs in response trying to still stab the blade near his neck. 

"This boy needs to die, his life won't matter until he does!"

_ Wrong, Peter's life always mattered. _

Tony only returns his strength, jerking the knife upward. It was only a few seconds later that the cool metal leaves his hands, skin instead stained with a deep crimson. The sliver blade finds its place in Fitz's neck, the man gurgling out in pain as the blood rushes out. 

“No!” Jemma screams bloody murder, fearful and shocked eyes watching her friend drop to the floor. “You fucking animal!”

_ Says the woman about to kill a kid. _

Tony watches as the woman runs to his body in tears, her other friend backing up gesturing for him to take the kid. Quickly, he fastens Peter’s bag onto his, sore shoulders aching at the added weight but he didn’t care. The kid was attached to the contents inside, he wasn’t leaving it here to rot.  Once finished, he disconnects his son from the machines, cringing at the flatline from the heart monitor. Peter’s body doesn’t stir, peaceful expression unaware of the chaos happening around him. Tony brushes his son’s curls out of his eyes, tear pricking his eyes as relief washes over him. 

_ His kid was still alive. _

_ He made it just in time. _

_ Thank God. _

“Come on, kiddo,” He gently takes his son’s limp form off the table, adjusting him so he could carry him. His arm slips under his legs, gently guiding Peter’s head to his shoulder. He kisses his kid's head still grateful he made it in time. “I gotcha.”

Jemma still remains on the ground a mess, sobbing from clutching Fitz's body as Aida looks in horror. Lights from the hallway shine into the room, more voices looming closer. Tony is barely to take in the other woman, panicked form stumbling back and away from the door.

_ Shit. _

Through panicked eyes, he finds a side door kicking it open and leaving the carriage he created behind. Escaping through the other side, he makes eye contact with the Avengers, men yelling into their radios once they see the kid. Tony sprints forward, trying to ignore the added weight he just picked up. 

He zooms through pediatrics, almost laughing at the irony in him in such a wing. He never expected to be a father after Pepper died, mind shutting off that idea once he buried his wife’s body. Clearly, he didn’t deserve this title after he failed to save his wife. And yet, twenty years later he meets a doe-eyed kid still believing in humanity, _still believing in him._

_ The Avengers were not taking this chance away, they were not killing a fifteen-year-old boy for a vaccine that might now work. _

Tony glances at Peter’s peaceful form as he runs, men almost begging him to give them back the kid. They all saw the kid as an object, as a thing they could just throw away. They never saw Peter for the person he truly was.

“I’m getting you outta here,” He whispers to his son. “I promise.”

He weaves around the halls trying to avoid the lights of soldiers, still whispering reassurances to the kid but mostly to himself. Truth be told, he had no idea how to get out, only knowledge was to find a car to get as far away from Utah as they could. Once he clears a break room, his eyes find a working elevator at the end of the hall. He lets out a relieved sigh, tears forming in his eyes once more.

_ They were going to make it out. _

_ “Drop him now!”  _

A gunshot startles him, body stumbling forward as he picks up the pace. He almost dives into the elevator, fingers jamming on the parking garage button. Once it turns white, the doors start to close as the hall fills with more Avengers all trying to make it into the elevator. They scream at him to stop, all their pleads falling on deaf eyes as the doors finally close. 

Tony sags against the wall, thanking the heavens for not getting shot. The panic and worry lessen, heart rate starting to return to normal. He adjusts Peter in his arms, kissing the crown of his head hoping he sleeps this whole ordeal off. 

The elevator dings, doors opening as he makes sure to jam the doors on this floor. His eyes scan the parking lot, finding a parked car inches away. 

_ Homestretch, almost out. _

He’s three steps out the door when Natasha holds him at gunpoint. She stands tall, scowling at him as she cocks her pistol. She doesn’t show any fear, just rage.

“You can save him,” Her voice echoes through the lot. “Even if you get him out of here then what? How long before he’s torn apart by clickers like his father?” She tries to guilt-trip him some more, moving closer. “That is if he hasn't been kidnapped and murder first.”

“That’s not-,” His mind lingers back to all the close calls they had, the near-death experiences they shared. “Not for you to decide.”

The anger leaves her voice, calm tone trying to reason with him. “It’s what  _ he _ wants. What are you going to tell him about this mess huh? How are you going to tell him how you killed Steve?”

_ What Peter wanted. _

_ Peter wanted to help people, to save the world- _

Tony recalls the kid’s blind faith in the Avengers, his endless stories of what he could offer to the world. There was a spark in his eye every time he talked about being immune, an odd sense of hope that he gave anyone around. He pauses staring back at his kid again, a tentative gaze returning to Natasha still trying to reason with him. 

“You know it, Tony. You _ know _ what he wants.”

_ He knows Peter wanted to help but dying, letting doctors poke around in his brain? _

_ That was never uttered between them, there was no life or death choice on the table. _

Natasha moves closer, slowly lowering the gun to the side. “You can still do the right thing here.” The woman’s eyes grow glassy, actual emotion edged on her face. “Peter won’t feel anything, we’ll make sure of it.”

Tony’s eyes lower, falling on the peaceful image of the kid still sleeping. His head still rested on his shoulder, messy curls just covering his eyes. The Widow begs him at this point, trying to urge him to hand over his son. Her pleads fall on deaf ears, his mind wondering what the fuck to do.

_ Peter wanted to save the world. _

_ But was he ready to lose his world?  _

“Tony, please,” She tries again desperately. “You can still walk out of here, I’ll turn a blind eye. You can see the world rebuild itself.”

The weight in his arms grew, the heavy burden literally resting on him. He grunts, adjusting the sleeping kid as his fingers brush across the pistol in his waistband. The gun is in his hands before he realizes, hidden under Peter’s gown. Silence lingers in the room, sad yet desperate stares shared between them. 

_ Peter wanted to help people. _

_ But could he leave his kid behind? _

“Don’t you want to give humanity another chance?”

His gun cocks, shaky fingers resting on the trigger. The weight of the world fell on his shoulders, a choice standing right in front of him. 

_ To save the world and kill his son. _

_ Or to save his son and let the world stay as it is. _

Natasha’s hand brushes against Peter’s shoulder, fingers trying to pull his body towards her. The pistol fires, pained eyes watching her body crumble to the floor.

_ The world may suffer but his son has a chance to live.  _

_ And he’s ok with that. _

Lips drawn in a tight line, he walks Peter’s body towards the car. His body is soon placed in the backseat, gentle hands making sure nothing would harm him. The kid’s bag is placed on the floor, the added weight falling off Tony. 

_ There was no turning back now. _

He slams the car door, gun in hand as he walks back over to Natasha's pained form. She heaves out in pain, blood pooling from her abdomen as she applies pressure. She fights to pull herself onto her knees, failing as blood around her grows. Tony only stares as he struggles to remember the worry he felt on the fateful day he met the Widow bleeding from a similar wound. 

Her eyes find his, gasping as she holds a bloody hand out in front of her. “Wait!” This time she begs for her life, fear just briefly flashing in her eyes. “Let me go,  _ please.” _

Tony moves closer, narrow eyes staring down at her struggling form. “You’d just come after him.”

He fires.

The Widow bleeds out on the concrete. 

________

Tony sits in silence as he drives, the sun setting over the Utah mountains. He stares at the sights above, breathing out a heavy sigh as they leave the city behind. He doesn’t look back at the kid, guilt rising as he wonders what he would tell him. How would he explain that Nat and Steve just wanted to kill him, that he may be the cure but he’ll die in the process?

_ He can’t tell him- _

Peter finally stirs in the backseat, a lump growing in his throat as his guilty gaze glances back. His kid cracks open an eye, still a bit loopy. His brows furrow, staring at the hospital gown and his new surroundings. 

“What the hell am I wearing?”

“Just take it easy,” He responses hoping the kid would go back to sleep. “Drugs are still wearing off.”

His face scrunches up cutely, hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What happened?”

_ Chaos, pure blood-filled chaos. _

Tony pauses for a few more seconds, eyes firmly focused on the road. “We found the Avengers and they uh-”

_ Tried to harvest your brain.  _

“Ran some basic tests but it turns out,” The lump grows in his throat as he mutters out a lie, a story he just started forming. “There’s a whole lot more like you, Pete.”

_ Possibly, in some sick twist way he hopes. _

“People that are immune, dozen actually,” He finally looks back at his kid, eager eyes still thinking he did something good. “But it hasn’t done much good. They actually st-” His hands grip the wheel tightly until his knuckles turn white. “They stopped looking for a cure.”

“Oh…” Peter whispers, crestfallen. 

Tony watches the disappointment grow on the kid’s face, the pure defeat settling in. “I’m taking us home.” Peter does say a word, rolling over on his side and hiding his face in the leather seats. The guilt grows, but deep down he knows he made the right choice. “I’m sorry.”

_ For everything.  _

________

It takes them about a week to even get back to Jackson County.

The weather grows warmer with each passing hour, the days becoming much longer. Everything blooms once more, life filling the forests and overgrown towns. Even with a chance of a better life before them, their journey home was quite somber. 

Peter didn’t talk for the first day, defeated eyes only staring out the window as they traveled out of Utah. The questions didn’t come until the second, his brown eyes lost and confused trying to put the pieces together. Tony just repeats the lie he forms, some half-truths thrown in there for good measure. 

His kid tries to question all of it, wondering why Nat and Steve never told them about others like him, how no one even offered the idea. Much to his dismay, he asks about his friends worried if they were even alive or not. Tony simply tells Peter they weren’t at the hospital, not daring to mention how he killed them for trying to kill him for a cure. He didn’t need to hear how he may have destroyed the Avengers because he killed their leaders.

_ Peter didn’t deserve to have any more guilt on his conscience.  _

Eventually, his kid stopped asking, sad eyes accepting the fact that he wasn’t the saving grace to end this shitshow. Nowadays, he took to longingly staring at his bite, fingers running over what should have turned him months ago. 

“Well, I guess we’re walking.” Tony catches the kid staring at his arm with sad eyes. He turns his attention to their broken-down car, shutting the hood. He then gestures to the woods behind him, the mass of trees reminding him of their first time here. “Should be a straight shot through here.”

They walk through the forest in silence.

Peter kicks around rocks with his boots, mind off elsewhere as he struggles to come to terms of what happened in Salt Lake. He wasn’t even awake, only to wake up in a moving car leaving the city before he could grasp what happened. He never saw Avengers, only got his hopes up in the end. 

Mid-way through, Tony grew tired of the silence. “Pretty isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever told you this,” He tries to gear the conversation to something else, an old memory of his. “But Pepper and I used to take hikes like this, I would hate them but she would just drag my ass to the car if I said no.”

That makes the kid crack a smile, a giggle almost escaping him.

“You two,” He doesn’t feel as much of a weight when he talks about her, a feeling of peace mostly when he touches his rings. “You two would’ve been great friends.”

“Really?”

“Trust me kiddo, she would have loved you.”

They trekked through the woods for a few more minutes, coming upon the small waterfall that overlooks the settlement. Tony recognizes the place they left Rhodey before heading to Colorado but now this was a place where their journey comes to an end. 

_A new beginning._

Together they scale up a small cliffside, finding their footing on a grassy field blooming with purple flowers. Taking one last look over the horizon, he sighs; happy that they were finally in a place to call home. They had a chance to start a new life away from the zones and away from any Avengers. They could finally have peace.

“Alright, Kiddo let’s go surprise my brother.”

“Umm,” Peter’s voice causes him to stop. “Wait a sec.”

He turns back towards the kid, watching him trying to find the words to say. His kid takes a deep breath, hands playing with the hem of his newly acquired red flannel. 

“Back in Boston, back when I was bitten. I wasn’t alone.” The kid pauses painful memories resurfacing. “My best friend, my boyfriend was there. And he got bit too.”

_ Oh God, he’s telling him about Ned. _

_ He never could speak of him before. _

Peter countries, eyes glassy but still composed. “We had no idea what to do, no one explains what it feels like to be bit.” He rubs his arm, jaw tight. “Ned just turns to me and says, let’s just wait it out. Y’know, we can be all poetic and just lose our minds together.” Anger grows in his voice, frustration tumbling out of him. “He’s gone and I’m still waiting for my turn.”

Tony stares, watching the emotions pour from his kid. He sees the guilt in his eyes, the weight of him living still waiting on his shoulders. 

“Peter-”

“Ned was first to die, Tony.” His kid sniffles, hands shaking. “Then it was Maria, Shuri, and T’Challa. And then all those men-”

“None of that is on you,” He says.

“Dad, no, that’s not-” Peter huffs. “You don’t understand.”

_ Trust me I do. _

“I struggled for a long time surviving. Countless days of wishing I-” He stops growing emotional himself. He looks his kid dead in the eye trying to return the same hope he gave him. “No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.” 

Peter sighs, shaking his head muttering something under his breath.

“Now, I know that’s not what you want to hear right now. I get it, Pete, I really do but-”

“Sweat to me,” The kid cuts him off, eyes meeting his. “Swear to me that everything that you said about the Avengers is true.”

The statement catches him off guard, mouth going dry as he stares at the kid. Deep down, he knew his kid had suspicions, had doubts about his lies. And now he was testing him, pleading with him to tell him the truth.

But he wouldn’t, he had to protect him. 

_ All the choices he made were to protect his son, to protect the second chance they both got. _

_ As selfish as it was, he couldn’t waste it. _

Tony looks Peter dead in the eye, face lacking any real guilt. He was going to take these lies to the grave, he didn’t care. They were going to live long happy lives here, as father and son. Two people pushed together by unlikely forces. 

“I swear.”

His kid’s brows furrow, still trying to accept what he’s been told a wave of emotions washing over him. He nods, a slight sense of hope returning to his eyes, a spark starting to erupt. There’s a brief silence between them, Peter still studying his features. 

His son finally speaks, arms embracing his father in a tight hug, “Okay.”

Tony doesn’t utter a word, returning the embrace refusing to let go. He rests his head on the kid’s head, almost growing emotional. 

He was a father, saved by the very boy he tried to push away all those months ago.

He was finally whole again. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, our journey has come to an end 😭 From the bottom of my heart I have to thank everyone who supported and left such lovely comments. Anon or not, all the support means so much! This fic was a labor of love, months of work that I was nervous to share. So once again, thank you so much!!!
> 
> Until time next time,
> 
> Hannah 🥰
> 
> P.S
> 
> I do plan on tackling the DLC, don't you worry 😉

**Author's Note:**

> Well...It's not The Last of Us without the pain. Get ready for the long haul you haven't seen anything yet ;)
> 
> *Moving forward, warnings will be used according to chapter. 
> 
> *Updates every Friday and Wednesday!
> 
> *Once again, huge thanks to my artist, [neydraws-blog](https://neydraws-blog.tumblr.com/) for the amazing artwork! Go check out their other work!


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